


Curse of the Waterlilly

by Maritrar



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ditrust, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Mythology - Freeform, Past Rape/Non-con, Rating May Change, Slow Build, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:51:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 74,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maritrar/pseuds/Maritrar
Summary: She never considered mythology and lore to be anything more than old tales and fantasy. She thought she was human, that her circumstances was just a string of bad luck. But then she is whisked away to discover Vampires exist. What is her worth to them? Did they rescue her, or is she really a prisoner, a source of food? Or, is what they claim true? Is she approaching a change and becoming a creature of Mythology herself?





	1. Abandoned

# Abandoned

"You good for nothing little whore!"

Inside, she is frozen cold. By now, she expects nothing less from him, and the words should not hurt, but they still pierce through her emotional armor like tiny needles.

"Did you think we wouldn't find out? Do you think I'm stupid?"

She doesn't answer, just glares back at his beetroot face and knows that no matter what she says he will explode. It's not really about her any more.

"Don't you dare mock me, you filthy little Bitch! That's it. Get out!"

"What..?" This is new. He's newer gone this far before.

"You failed your class. I told you, tis was Your last chance. I'm not supporting you any more. I want you out of my house."

"But... Where will I go?"

"Maybe you should have thought of that before," her stepmother spits.

The momentary shock has crumpled her armor, but now it rebuilds. She will shed no tears in front of these hypocrites.

"Fine," she says and gets to her feet. Turns her back at them and goes to her room. She packs her stuff, what little truly belongs to her in a bag, all the while ignoring her father’s cold stare where he waits in the doorway. Leaving, she brushes past him without a word. As she reaches the front door, he calls after her.

"Lilly." She freezes mid step. Not the usual "you", but "Lilly". The pet name he used when she was a little. It's the first time in ages he has used that name. She swallows the lump in her throat and feels her chest burn. Has he suddenly changed his mind?

"Leave the key."

The small flicker of hope dies. She rummages around her pocket until she finds the hard and jagged metal, warm from her body. She drops it on the floor and pulls the door shut behind her as she walks into the dusk.

November is a lousy time to get kicked out. She turns the collar up and tucks her scarf a little firmer against her chin as she walks on down the street. It's not a nice neighborhood after dark, but she has lived here long enough to avoid the dangers. Keeping her stride determined and purposeful she sticks to the side of the street where light still filters through the windows of the rundown dwellings.

It's been another shitty day in a long row of shitty days. Getting fired from another job with a shitty excuse. Apparently, she was the sole cause for every thing that had ever gone wrong in the work environment.

She huffs a sigh and picks up the pace a little.  dreading the next section of street ahead. The abandoned buildings will be torn down next month, now the empty houses stands like soulless gauls with hollow eyes. Like when someone watches her, the glare bores into her back and under her skin, and she can't help but raise her gaze, searching for the source.

Of course, no one is there. Nevertheless, she feels relieved when she rounds the corner and enters the populated subway station. She goes down to the tracks and waits for the train, staring at the wall while her mind wanders, flittering between her father last words, the covert glee of the girls at work as she walked out the door and another highlight of the day; the finals result.

That at least sparks anger inside as the train arrives.

She steps aboard and slumps down on a seat, pulling her bag into her lap.  She stares into the darkness outside as the train pulls out and dwells on the unfairness off it all. There is no way her finals were any less than A. She knows the only reason she failed was her dismissal of the dean's less than subtle advances.

The old pig.

The message he sends is clear enough, though. She's not passing his class unless he approves. She's not really interested in supplying what he acquires.

A shudder of disgust runs down her spine and she raises her gaze to distract herself from her thoughts. A fleeting second her gaze catches a set of eyes before the man they belong to looks away. What a peculiar set of eyes. Light brown to the degree they seemed golden. She flicks a guarded gaze his way, but can't see face under the hood of his black sweater. She stares out the window again, recognizes the station and realizes she has no idea where to go. The semester is over and the campus closed. There's really nowhere she can stay. If there were, she would have left home a long time ago.

At the next stop, she suddenly decides to get off, hefts the bag over her shoulder and runs through the doors just before they close. She trudges through the throng of people into the darkened streets toward her favored corner coffee shop. She needs to sit down and figure out what to do. The bell chimes as she enters and she is sorry to notice an unfamiliar face behind the counter.

"What will it be, love?" the guy asks as he wipes down the surface. She orders a cappuccino and sits down at the table in the far corner, tucking her bag down by her feet. She takes off her coat, but leaves the large scarf tucked around her neck. She is more comfortable that way, when her face is half hidden and her long hair tied back in a messy bun. Less people seem to recognize her, that way.

The waiter comes over with her coffee. His eyes flicks down to her bag as he sets the cup down in front of her.  
 

"Going away?" he asks. She looks away and silently shakes her head.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to pry." The door chimes again and the guy slips back behind the counter.

He must be new here. It's her regular joint and she has never seen him before.

She sighs. She had hoped to see a familiar face tonight. The owner always has a smile for her and a kind word, but this just isn’t her day it seems.

She takes a sip of the coffee, creamy smooth and scolding warm; just what she needs now. How on earth did she end up here?

The insane events of the last few months has been one bad occurrence after the other. It's as if she's cursed. She misses her life when all was easy, when she was still dancing, when she was still accepted and included. Before the rumors started flowing. Before the frat party at the end of summer.

At least she learned a lesson. She’s never ever going to trust a guy, ever again. The price for that lesson though, was too high; a ruined reputation and a lot of unwanted attention.

The doorbell chimes again as the customers leave and the coffee shop is empty, save from the waiter and herself. She doesn't notice him before he pulls up a chair and sits down across from her.

"So what's gotten you down the dumps?" Drawn from her gloomy reverie, she faces him with a forced smile.

"S' nothing."

"Don't look like nothing to me." Of course he has to be a cocky bastard.

"Who are you? I haven't seen you here before."

He extends a hand across the table, takes hers in a firm grip as he shakes her hand.

"Jacob," he says.

She notices the strength in his hand and mutters 'Lil', before getting a grasp on herself again.

"Where's Desmond?"

"He is out tonight. I'm just covering for him."

He's good looking, roughish and well built, with a sparkle in his hazel green eyes, but she's not in the mood to flirt. Night is soon falling outside and she has a lot to figure out.

"Look, I had a shitty day. I really just need some time alone to think."

He watches her, as if he is about to make an argument, but then he just sighs as he gets to his feet.

"All right, Love. Take your time." He leaves to continue cleaning and she puts her head in her hands. She needs somewhere to stay.  A roof over her head for tonight and a permanent room in the long run. She has some money in her account, but not enough to stay at a motel. She needs a new job too. Really, what she needs is a new city, where no one knows her story.

She heaves a sigh. There's a homeless shelter down town, but she wouldn’t really be any better off there, than anywhere else. Too close quarters. Too many people to piss off.

There aren’t that many options and none that stands out above the others. Her mind falls back to chiding herself for falling into this heap of shit in the first place.

_I wish I had never gone to that party._

Her coffee has long since gone cold. She empties the cup as the door chimes again and a beautiful brunette enters.

"Why haven't you closed up yet, Jacob?" The brunette walks up to the counter, pulling off her gloves as she chides. "We should be ready to leave by now; the others will be here any minute."

She has lost track of time, Lil realizes. It's way past closing time. The guy must have tried to give her a hint to leave and she has blatantly disregarded it.

The brunette notices her at the back of the room as she stirs, and her eyes darkens as they turn back to the guy behind the counter.

“Really, Jacob! Is this the right time?!”

Her tone is simmering with anger as Lil throws on her coat. This is exactly what she doesn’t need; another lovers quarrel over her. She pulls her bag off the floor as Jacob tries to protest, provoking a fit from the brunette as the door bangs shut behind her, closing off the argument. She hurries around the corner and runs down the stairs to the subway, entering the platform just as the train back home slips into the station. She needs a roof over her head. Though her father won't give her one, there's one for free just by the station.


	2. Extraction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is a cruel place without friends.

# Extracted

Entering the abandoned house is the creepiest thing she's done since she went to a haunted house at the fair several years back. There's a soulless chill to the rooms that feels as if the lack of human presence has left space for something dark and menacing. She shrugs it off as tired nerves. Illusory superstition is not the danger here. Humans, though, that's another story.

She stops just inside the door to listen, trying to sense presence there, if there are other unlawful tenants taking shelter from the night, but the house is completely silent.

Confident the house is empty, she makes her way up the stairs and finds a room where the draft is less prominent and huddles in a corner.

She pulls out another thick sweater and puts it on. She'll need it to stay warm through the night. Shivering, she takes a seat on her bag and leans against the wall.

She doesn't expect to find sleep that night, but somewhere between feeling bitterly cold and fretting over her day, her thoughts twist awkward and irrational and Lil falls asleep. When she startles awake in the middle of the night, she's doesn't remember where she is. A few moments of confusion settles her whereabouts and she sighs tiredly. She shifts a little and tucks her coat tighter around herself, trying to find a more comfortable position and a little warmth. Soon she’s slipping back to sleep when a creek in the stair startles her wide awake.

There is someone inside the building.

With a sinking feeling and her heart hammering in her chest, she gets to her feet. Looking out the back window for a way out, she realizes she is stuck. The fire escape has been removed, probably to prevent entry into the building.

She feels an urgent need to hide, but the room is bare and empty.

Maybe in another room, she thinks and silently hefts the bag over her shoulder. As quietly as she can, she sneaks across the floor, trying to disregard the several footsteps now ascending the hall.

The room she enters is a former bedroom with an on-suite bathroom. A dead end. Voices down the halls raises the hairs on her neck. And when the words reach her, her blood freezes to ice.

"...footprints. She's close. Look lively."

Terrified, she retreats further into the room, when a floorboard under her heel gives away with a loud creek.

The door to the flat is thrown open and three men barges into the room, leering and chuckling lowly as she gazes terrified from one to another. They are big. All dressed in black leather jackets and wearing gloves. 

"There she is," the one in the middle says and his accomplices lights up in wry smiles that makes her blood run cold. "Get her, boys."

She tries to bolt for the door, but before she gets two steps away, they are on her. She screams her lungs out, claws and trashes as they wring her hands behind her back, locking her in a tight hold as the leader approaches with a syringe in his hand. She tries to throw her weight against them, but it’s useless. Between the three of them, she's going nowhere. The needle sinks into her neck with a sharp pain and then all strength leaves her limbs.

A garbled cry issues from her throat as she slumps between them and then her world lists as one of them hoists her over his shoulder.

Panic claws at her chest, but she can't move. They leave the flat and starts carrying her down the stairs. The world churns and moves as she fights against the drug to stay alert and cry out for help. The sounds she makes are weak and won’t draw much attention, even if she gives it her best. They chuckle at her puny attempts and then a face appears in front of her. Upside down and sneering, he brushes her hair aside.

"Don't waste your energy, girl. You'll need it where you're going."

The goons laugh lowly.

"She’s a fighter, this one,” one og the goons says.

“The fighters are always the best ones,” the other one leers. “Can't wait to get a taste of her.”

The leader chuckles lowly.

“We’ll see, boys. This one is a real gem. ‘ll fetch a fair price from the right buyer.” 

Lil feels sick. She closes her eyes against the blurry face and a weak sob is all she manages as they move on down the stairs continuing their sickening conversation.

Suddenly the talk between them dies and before she knows it the floor comes up to greet her with an unfriendly thump. Crumpled on the floor she watches several feet move about in the dim light and dumbly registers they're fighting. Then someone crouches in front of her and when recognition sparks in her muddled mind, Lil can't fathom who is there.

It’s Desmond from the coffee shop.

"Lil," he says. "Lil, are you with me?" His eyes are filled with worry. She wishes she could make herself understood, but the noises she makes are not words. He seems to recognize her condition as he takes her answer for a confirmation.

"You're safe, now,” he says. “We'll keep you safe."

Panic still claws through her and she sobs. What if there are more of them? Around her there's still fighting going on. What if whoever Desmond brought to help, looses?

Desmond picks her up and carries her away, out of the house into the cold night. She shivers involuntarily.

"Just a little further and I'll get you nice and warm."

A car door opens and two sets of hurried footsteps approaches.

"Is she hurt?" a female voice asks in quiet guardedness.

"Knocked out by some drug," Desmond answers in a low voice. "We got here just in time. They were taking her away as we entered."

"I swear Evie, if she dies-" A low voice growls in anger, but then Desmond breaks him off.

"Help me get her into the car."

The car smells of new leather as she is buckled into a back seat and laid down in Desmond’s lap. A million questions races through her muddled mind. 

Why has Desmond come for her? How did he know she needed help? And who are these other people? Her skin still crawls from her capturers’ intent and with her luck lately, she might not be out of the predicament yet.

Why are these people here? What is their intent? 

A sob wrecks her throat just as someone gets into the front passenger seat and slams the door shut.

"Let’s go," he says and the car starts moving. The man turns and regards her closely. Suddenly her mind is flooded with calm serenity and the world stops churning.

_Easy, child. You are safe._

His lips doesn't seem to move, but the words are clear and strong. Lil doesn't think anything of it.

 _Where are they taking me?_ her mind screams. The man smiles, and then there’s a reply in her mind.

 _Somewhere you can rest and find your strength. Somewhere safe_. Then he turns away, and panic takes a tight grip around her heart.

"God, that heart rate. S' like a little rabbit," the driver comments.

"Desmond, practice your bedside manners," the other one orders. "Calm her down."

Desmond shifts her position until she rests flat on her back, facing him. Her mind is flooded with reassurance and safety, a warm sense of home and security.

 _You're safe_.

However, there's something more there. An undertone of worry. Not for her safety, but for her, of her. It puzzles her as she struggles to keep afloat and stay alert. But then a single word appears in her mind.

_Sleep._

Lil goes out like a light.


	3. Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of the flames or into the fire?

# Reveal

She wakes to a throbbing headache and clenches her eyes shut from the light in the room groaning in discomfort. She covers her face with a hand and in a chair beside her bed someone stirs.

"Just a second, child. I'll close the drapes."

The room is drenched in muted shadow and tentatively Lil opens her eyes.

She is in a large bedroom with a high-lofted ceiling and cream-colored walls. She tries to sit up, but then her head starts churning and the pain intensifies, so she slumps back down. The churning continues and she scrunches her eyes shut.

Distressed, she notices the lack of noise coming from the outside. She has never been somewhere she couldn’t hear the traffic. Where have they taken her?

"Where am I?"

The man comes back to her side and sits down again.

"You're safe, little one. That's all you need to know for now."

She doesn’t feel safe.

If it weren't for the fact her head feels like it’s about to split apart she might have taken offense by the condescension, but right now she's in too much pain to care.

"I'm sorry about the pain, but I can't give you anything for it. We don't know exactly what they gave you last night."

Something cold is draped over her forehead, and though it does little to lessen the pain, it feels nice. When he speaks again, the sound is within her head, too compelling, too insistent to resist.

_Sleep._

_\---_

When she wakes again she is alone and the room is drenched in darkness, save for a slither of light coming through a creak in the door. Outside, a mutter of voices holds a quiet conversation. Or more correctly; an argument.

"...what if she turns against us? Did you consider that part when you decided to bring her here?"

"Enough of this! I will keep her from regressing down that path."

"Why not let them have her? She'd end the lot of them. A powerful weapon; that's what she is and you won't use it."

"She's an innocent."

"Two centuries back, that didn't matter."

"You know that’s different! _She_ knew what she was. She _chose_ that path, believing it was to her advantage!"

Lil's head is spinning. She understands the argument has something to do with her, that someone would rather use her, than keep her safe and that she's unwelcome. She is so tired, constantly trying not to step on anyone's toes or provoking anyone, and yet that is all she seems to do. Either people want nothing to do with her and freeze her out, or they seem to be out to abuse her. She tries to stifle a sob. Outside, the argument abruptly quiets down.

"She is awake."

The door opens and the small stream of light turns into a wide river, flooding the room.

"Good evening, little one." The man from before sits down on the side of the bed as Lil bites back bitter tears and looks away.

"How much of that did you hear?" He gently turns her face towards him and meets her eyes. The conversation replays in her mind unbidden, and stings her heart once more. She should not be here. She should leave. The man sighs and flicks a gaze across his shoulder.

"Connor," he barks lowly. The other man steps closer, a stern and cold expression lining his sharp features. The rigid opposition in him seems to melt a bit as he regards her. He clenches his jaw flicking his eyes away, before meeting her gaze again.

"I'm sorry, miss," he says. "It's not really about you. What you heard... It's not about you." Then he turns and leaves without another explanation.

A small sense of relief floods her veins, clogging her throat further and her eyes burns with unshed tears. She can’t take any more. A sob wrecks her throat and before she knows it, she's scooped from the bed and into a tight embrace.

"It's OK, little one. You're safe. No one is going to make you leave."

That's all it takes to break the floodgates open. She cries into his shoulder, for the fright of last night, for her father, for her studies, her lost friends and her wrecked life. For a long time, he just holds her tight, stroking gently over her back while saying nothing.

It's the first time in ages anyone has held her close, offered her some comfort. As if starved, she nurtures on the feeling, can’t help herself, even though he is a complete stranger. Eventually she’s able to calm down enough to be embarrassed.

"Sorry," she says.

"Don't be.”

He holds out a glass of water for her as she wipes her eyes. Muttering ‘thanks’ she takes the glass and drinks.

The liquid slides cold and fresh down her throat, and as it does it stirs something inside, a thirst so deep she’s startled. She removes the glass abruptly and watches the content slouch around inside.

“What’s in it?" she asks.

Her rescuer watches her with a faint smile.

"It's just water," he says.

She sniffs the glass. It smells like water. Behaves like water. She has never wanted water this much before.

"I can drink it if you don't believe me," he says.

She takes another sip, swirls it inside her mouth and feels the sharp freshness and a regenerative quality she has never before noticed.

 _I must be really dehydrated_ , she thinks as she swallows, before lifting the glass to her lips and emptying it in deep draughts.

He takes the glass from her and places a tray in her lap, decked with a dish of salad.

“Eat,” he says.

Not the most talkative of people, this guy. She watches him guardedly, now her senses seems to sharpen and return. He is a little older than her; in his late twenties or early thirties. He moves with the fluidity of a dancer, but somehow, she has a feeling that he is not. His eyes are almost golden, a curious color.

With a jolt, she realizes she has seen him before.

“You were on the train,” she says. “You were watching me.”

“I was, yes.” He replies without betraying a single emotion, and worry seeps into her gut. Was he following her? Lately, she’s been a magnet for bad luck and creepy people, why should he be any different?

“Who are you? Why am I here?” she hates the way her voice is going shrill with worry, but she wants answers.

“Eat, little one. Then we’ll find the others, and all will be explained.” He is not even the least bit bothered about her worry. It calms her down, a bit. He would have been bothered, right? If his intention was deceitful and she caught on?

She takes a small bite of the salad. It’s a mix of green herbs, roasted nuts and a selection of dried fruits, laced with a dressing of oil and vinegar. It’s rich and tasty, and she really is famished. She’s had nothing to eat since lunch yesterday. She all but wolves it down, and when she’s finished, her rescuer watches her with an amused smile.

“Feeling better?” he asks, and she nods.

“I do. Thank you,…” she flicks him a gaze. He hasn’t even given her his name. “What’s your name?” she asks.

“I’m Altair. Come, let’s find the others.”

Lil goes to the bathroom. Going through her bag, she notises that her phone and cards are gone. Someone has even been through her toilet bag. She brushes through her hair and fixes herself up, apprehensively considering what it means.To whatever reason, it can't be good. Wary, she returns to the bedroom.

A foreboding feelig churns her gut as the man leads her from the room and down a long corridor. The building is extensive and at first she thinks it’s an old apartment block, but then they enter the large hallway and she realizes it’s a mansion. A massive stair takes up most of the room, connecting the central house with the wing she was in and another on the opposite side. She stops, dumbfounded as she looks around the room, at the carved wood, stained and polished to a high sheen, the thick carpets lining the stairs and the opulent chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

“Who are you?” she asks, but he doesn’t stop to answer, and she has to hurry to catch up as he reaches the bottom of the stairs.

He shows her through a dining room, set to accommodate at least twenty, before opening the door at the other end of the room, and she can hear voices coming from within.

It’s the living room, another spacious room, but light and modern, furnished with the largest couch she has ever seen where a bunch of people are waiting. The conversation dies as she steps into the room and everyone’s eyes turn to her.

The guy from the coffee shop is there, Jacob his name was, as is the beautiful brunette he fought with. Lil watches her carefully, but there’s no reproach to trace in her eyes today.

Desmond is there, too. He gives her an assuring smile. Connor, too she recognizes. Other than that, the rest of the crowd she doesn’t know.

Altair motions for her to sit down beside him, facing the others.

“Good to see you up and running, Love,” Jacob says as she takes a seat. Outside the light is falling and as she throws a glance at the sky, she notices the lush greenery stretching as far as her eyes can see.

This isn’t New York or anywhere close.

“Where am I?”

She flicks her eyes back at the people in the room, her eyes resting questioningly at Jacob and then Desmond. They both meet her eyes, but none of them answers. Unease creeps up her spine.

“Where am I?” she repeats.

Altair grabs her hand, carefully he runs a thumb across the back of her hand.

“All in due time,” he says and then he turns to the others. “Ladies,” he says and four out of the five women in the room gets up and leaves. The door closes behind them and her nerves stand on end.

“Why have you bought me here? Who are you?” She gets to her feet and her eyes flicks to the terrace doors. They are within reach, but they are closed and might be locked. They would have no trouble stopping her. She stays on her feet, while everyone else sits, at ease and relaxed.

“Lil. Please take a seat. I promise you it’s OK. You are safe here.” Desmond caches her eyes. She studies him closely, uncertain whether to trust him or not. He did come for her last night, drew her from the fire when she needed it the most. He seems sincere, but she doesn’t really know him.

“You speak as if I wouldn’t be elsewhere.” Desmond looks away to one of the others, a man with darker skin and eyes the darkest of browns.

“Truth is, child; you’re not,” he says. “However, we are getting ahead of things. Altair, I think a round of introductions is in order.”

“Yes, you’re right Malik,” Altair relies, then turns to her and motions across the table. “Lil, you already know Desmond, and I believe you’ve met Jacob.” She nods before he continues. “This is Jacob’s sister, Evie and Henry, her fiancé.” The information puts the quarrel last night into another light. Not a lover’s quarrel, but siblings. Altair continues.

“You’ve already met Connor,” Connor gives her a short nod, “and this is Malik and Ezio. Their girlfriends, you’ll meet later.”

“And what am I doing here?” she is on edge now.

“We brought you here to keep you safe.”

“From what? People like those who came for me last night?”

“It’s two nights ago, but in short; yes.”

“Who were they?” another round of uneasy looks and crossed gazes before Evie sighs.

“They were traffickers,” she says. “More precisely procuring sex slaves for the black market.”

Lil feels sick.

“What? How-”

“They target people like you, young, troubled, disowned. Without safe lodgings and network. Easy to catch and seldom reported missing.” Malik lists the facts without feeling, not easing the queasy feeling inside her gut. The room falls silent.

“Moreover,” Altair continues, “there is a video circuiting the net that probably caught their attention.”

Her heart nearly stops as bile and burning heat raises up her throat with the recollection of the grainy video that set of this rollercoaster of disaster. The way he refers to it suggests he has seen it, that they all have.

She can’t stay here. Abruptly she turns on her heel to leave, but Altair catches her wrist and holds her back.

“Let me go!”

“Only if you sit down.”

Mortification gives way to indignant anger. What right has he to demand anything from her? She turns her head to snap a retort his way, but when her eyes find his, the words die on her tongue.

_Sit._

Before she knows, she is sitting down, confused. Why does she comply just because he tells her to? She owes them her gratitude for rescuing her, but other than that…

She clenches her jaw shut and lifts her gaze again.

“Look, she says, “I’m grateful you saved my life. Thank you. Thank you for taking me in and looking after me and thank you for letting me stay. Now I’d like my phone and my credit cards back and I’ll be on my way.”

“Where would you go?” It’s the guy from the coffee shop, Jacob asking. He’s been quiet so far, but now there’s a light of amusement playing in his eyes.

“That’s hardly any business of yours? Now where’s my phone?” Lil isn’t in the mood to be made fun at.

“Your phone and cards are maculated. They no longer exist,” Henry says.

 “What?!” Her phone is her primary source of distraction, an extension of her soul where she listens to music, reads and writes down her thoughts…

“It’s a necessity to prevent your attackers tracing you here,” Malik says.

“What? Why on earth would they go to such lengths just to get to me?!”

“Cause you’re special, little one. And that’s why you need to stay.” Altair’s eyes are resting on her as she tries to make sense of it all.

The attempted abduction wasn’t just a bad coincidence; she was targeted, is still a target if what they say is true or… the nagging feeling inside grows.

“You mean to say that I’m not free to go?” she says lowly.

“For the time being, you are our guest,” Malik says firmly. “You have free roam of the house, but we cannot let you leave, no.”

Anger curls her shoulders and balls her fists as her jaw clenches.

“You cannot keep me here against my will. I have rights.” This is not going the way she hoped, but she will not give up freedom without a protest.

“And what rights are those?” there is a light of amusement in Malik’s eyes. He knows what rights she’s referring to, but if he wants it explicated she’ll oblige.

“A right to freedom. The basic human rights!” She bristles with anger where she sits.

“Well that’ settled, then. You’re staying,” Altair says with a lopsided grin.

“What? What about my rights?”

He turns his head to look at her and something stirs in his eyes.

“Don’t you wonder why people turn against you the way they do? Why you seem to piss everyone off, lately? Don’t you feel that something is off? That you are changing?”

She stares at him blankly. How does he know? How is he able to put into words what she has only barely put her finger to?

“Did you not notice that night the video was made, that you were different?”

Again, bile rises in her throat. She watches her hands clenche into tight fists in her lap, willing him to stop talking about the night that tore her life apart. The night that changed everything and ruined her.

“Lil, this is all happening because you’re a nymph,” he says.

“I’m _not!_ Don’t you dare call me a nympho!” she spits, anger blazing red and hot inside. Jacob and Ezio both burst out laughing further fuels her temper.

“Jacob. Honestly!” Evie sighs.

“Not a nympho, Lil,” Malik says unperturbed. “You are a nymph. A spirit of nature if you will. In short; you are not human.”

She is speechless, and while she tries to gather her thoughts, Malik goes on.

“Nymphs are said to be the daughters of gods who mated with mortals. They were guardians of nature with powers to govern and protect. For centuries they lived side by side with humans, up until the dark ages when their powers were deemed witchcraft.” Malik stops his narrative to watch her.

“Today, there are few left. The genes are mostly passed down the male line, but only the females turn. And when they do…” Malik stops and crosses gaze with Altair, before Altair continues.

“When the change occurs, humans tend to react negatively. That’s why you need to stay.”

She looks at them as if they are insane.

“Are you telling me you think I’m a fucking fairy!?”

“A fairy is another name, yes,” Altair says.

“And I guess you’re Santa Claus?”

A humored smile grazes his lips before he deigns to answer.

“Not quite, no.”

She stares at him in contempt.

“If you think that I’m buying this load of crap, you’re crazy!” she says.

What kind of place is this? A sect? Some kind of secret cult? She throws a guarded glance out the window. She’s miles from civilization, that much is clear, and she has no clue witch way leads to the nearest city.

They all fall very quiet.

“You don’t believe me, do you?” Altair says and for the first time there’s a shadow of irritation in his voice. There’s a sparkle in his eyes she cannot place, some force not to be trifled with and Lil dares not move.

“What will it take to convince you, child?” His voice lowers, deceptively soft and smoot in a way she finds very disconcerting. She feels the anticipation in the room, thick as fog. There is a feral grin on Edwards face and Jacob is smiling too.

Something’s about to happen.

Malik crosses a gaze with Evie who huffs a nettled sigh. Desmond looks at her guiltily, before Connor breaks the silence.

“Just show her, will you.” 

Her eyes flicks back to Altair, and she finds herself unable to look away. He takes her hand gently in his own and turns the palm up, lifts it to his mouth and kisses the base of her wrist lightly. Then he turns his gaze at her and her breath cashes in her throat. His eyes are glowing with a feint sheen; the color turned a molten gold, and the he smiles. His lips part to reveal his canine teeth, elongating before her gaze into sharp fangs.

For a second she doesn’t believe her own eyes before she cries out in terror and tries to draw away. She tugs her hand back, but his hold is too tight and suddenly she can’t move, as if some force is keeping her in place.

“There are other things than humans walking this earth on two legs, child.” He smiles harshly.

“Please,” she says shrilly, “please let me go!”

“I cannot let you, child,” he says. “You would not be safe, not until after the change is complete.”

Fear ripples through her in fresh waves of panic, and his expression softens.

“You fear me,” he says. She doesn’t answer, dreading what upsetting him further might do.

“You need not fear me, little one. I’m not a daemon, nor the rabid beast lore has taught you.”

“Y-you’re a vampire! Y-you drink blood.”

“Yes, little one. That part is true.”

Tears are streaming down her cheeks as he lifts her hand to his mouth again.

“Please, don’t…”

 _Your blood needs purging. Do not fret, I will not kill you, merely have a taste._ The voice is inside her head as she watches him kiss her wrist again, the feeling sending shivers down her spine. It’s not unpleasant, but she’s petrified of what he’ll do. Her heart is racing and her instincts telling her to run, but she can’t move a muscle.

_Relax, child. You won’t feel pain. I promise._

The frightened stiffness of her muscles stays as he bares his teeth and positions them above the pulse point of her wrist. She tries to regain control of her muscles and draw her hand away, but his influence is too strong. The sound of her panicked breath fills the room.

She feels nothing when his teeth pierces her skin, however, the first pull of her blood is a strange sensation, tugging along her veins. She goes numb, her muscles relaxing involuntarily. She lets out a shuddering breath as he draws another mouthful. A shiver of warmth runs down her spine. Altair growls in pleasure as he swallows. Heat rises up her throat at the sound and the tingle it sparkles deep inside her. She shivers slightly as he draws a last mouthful. Frozen in place she watches as his fangs retract and he laps at the wound until it closes before her eyes. Still her mind is not her own, but under his influence and keeping her in place. She struggles against it to regain control, but he doesn’t let her go.

_There you see child, no pain and no danger. I’m not going to hurt you, but there are things you do not understand. There are powers at work within you that you need to learn to control. Until you do, you need guidance._

_‘You’ll never let me go,’_ her mind frets.

_Not unless you learn._

_‘You brought me here to feed off, didn’t you?’_

His golden irises shifts to warm comfort as he lifts a hand to cup her cheek. Then he slowly lets go the control of her mind.

“I do not need you for food, little one, but for the time being you will be my source of nourishment. Your blood needs to be cleansed and we do not spill blood needlessly.”

“W-we?” the words comes out a sob as tears tumbles down her cheeks.

Altair gives her a sad smile.

“Yes little one; we. We are all vampires.”

Her hands tremble as she flicks a gaze at the others, noting the fangs they show with a hammering heart in her chest.

“Aaw, that heart,” Jacob says. “Ease your fear, Love. We won’t bite you. We have our own sources to draw on.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in in one night, but really; we’re of no danger to you as long as you do what you’re told,” Evie says. “Just follow Altair’s instructions and you’ll be fine.”

Their good-natured tone quells her panic, but there’s still a piece of information they’re holding back.

“What if I don’t want to?” she asks timidly and the room falls silent.

“I suggest you make an effort to,” Malik says and no one contradicts him.

Lil’s spirits plunges. They’re a bunch of bloodsucking predators, the lot of them. She flicks her gaze down and gives Malik a quiet nod. There’s little choice but to accept her fate until she can figure out a way to escape.


	4. Coming to terms

# Coming to terms

 

The evening proceeds as the four other women return to the party. To Lil’s quiet surprise Molly, Sarah and Emma are human, girlfriends of Connor, Malik and Ezio respectively.

Apparently, it’s possible to choose to be a food source.

 _Not a healthy relationship_ , she thinks as she watches Emma giggle at something Ezio whispers in her ear. Then Emma notices her gaze and her expression sours.

“Lil, that’s a short form, isn’t it?” Evie has taken a seat beside her on the couch and her question is a welcome distraction. Lil knows she’s every bit as lethal as the others, but her female form is deceptively less threatening. At the moment, Lil takes what comfort she can. She turns her head and nods.

“It’s Lilaea, really. Though, no one but my mother ever called me by that name. She thought I needed an extravagant name for some reason.”

Evie hums to herself in thought, before meeting her gaze.

“It’s pretty. A name can often reflect more of a person than one first intended. Your mother did well I think.”

“She left when I was ten.” The sting of her mother’s betrayal has long since mulled to a distant itch and there’s no feeling behind the words, just cold facts.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Evie smiles warmly. How is it possible for a predator to look so peaceful and benign?

“You know,” Lil says. “I thought you and Jacob were a couple, back at the coffee shop.”

“Oh, Lord no!” And then she laughs, a bubbling low laughter. “You better not tell him that. He might die in mortification.”

Lil finds her choice of words curious.

“He already is, isn’t he?”

Evie’s smile falls away. She flicks her a forced smile before she answers.

“Vampires aren’t undead, like lore tells you. You need to consider Lil, what “facts” you know were fabricated by our enemies.”

“Who were they?”

Evie gives her a crooked smile.

“This was back in medieval ages and “they” were the roman Catholic church. We were a threat to their rule and the easiest way to ruin any support to our side was to demonize us.”

“Witch parts are true, then?”

“Vampires are resilient beings, we do not age in the manner humans do.” She flicks a gaze at her brother and mutters under her breath. “Some of us never even grow up.” Lil isn’t sure if Evie meant for her to hear that comment as she continues without the slightest change of expression.

“We are not susceptible to disease, and our regenerative abilities means that injuries are healed, but vampires can die, just like humans.”

Lil considers the information a while before working up the courage to ask.

“That means… you can grow really old?” Evie’s lips lifts in a devious smile that makes Lil realize what she has said.

“Not that you seem old or anything…” she says, before Evie bursts out laughing.

“Relax,” she says. “I’m not offended.” Then she watches Lil out of the corner of her eye. “Nymphs have long life expectancies, too, once they make it through the change.”

It’s weird to even consider that information, and something else about what Evie said steals her attention.

“What do you mean, ‘make it through’?” she asks. Evie stiffens beside her and suddenly Altair is there.

“It’s getting late, Lil. Say good night.”

She is certain there is something there, something else they are withholding form her, but from Evie’s closed expression and Altair’s intervening, she knows she will get nothing from them tonight. She does as she is told.

Altair follows two paces behind all the way back through the coridors and when they reach the room, he follows her inside. She looks at him questioningly as he closes the door behind him.

He more than senses her unease as his eyes follow her very closely.

“This is my room,” he says, “and this is where you’ll sleep.”

_No…_

He stays by the door, letting her suck up the information before he continues.

“For the time being, you will not be alone, except while in the bathroom.”

Her heart beats so hard, she feels faint. She steps back, retreating from him even though she knows there’s no way out.

“Child,” he says and she has finally had enough.

“Don’t call me that! I’m _not_ a child,” she spits, and then realizes she is snapping at a vampire.

His lip draws up minutely and she’s not sure if he is repressing a smile or a sneer. She withdraws her gaze and retreats another step as he takes one forward.

“You are young, Lil. You’re inexperienced and ignorant to our world, you’re vulnerable… and you’re frightened.” His hand strokes gently down her cheek. She loathes the way the feeling makes her resistance crumble, makes her crave his comfort. She rips away from the caress and thankfully he doesn’t follow.

“I will never hurt you, little one. I will never force myself on you. You need not fear that.”

Her heart settles down a bit, but now there’s a lump in her throat instead. She doesn’t want to cry in front of him again, but that’s what will happen if he continues.

“Fine,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to take a shower and brush my teeth.”

“All right,” he says. “I’ll be here.”

 

The shower is scolding hot and just what she needs, washing the stiffness and stress from her body to pour down the drain. Moreover, the water stays warm the whole time, even if she stays there for a solid half hour. It seems, the luxury of the house extends beneath the surface.

When she steps out, the bathroom is as humid as a jungle, and the skin on her hands and feet shriveled like raisins. She gathers her hair in a loose bun at the crown of her head, puts on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt and goes into the bedroom.

Altair lies on the bed, waiting. He has removed his shirt and his bare chest reveals toned and sinew muscle under tanned skin.

Lil retracts her gaze as if burned. It feels too intimate for her comfort, but he doesn’t even notice.

She slips into bed, curls on her side and wraps the duvet tight around her body. At least it’s not one double duvet, but two separate ones. Altair flicks off the light and then she feels him settling down on his side of the bed.

It takes her a long while to fall asleep, but eventually she does.

Her dreams are haunted, dark beings claw for her through the dark and her feet are stuck in treacle. She cannot get away. She startles awake as Altair gently shakes her shoulder. The instinct to flee is rattling through her bones and before she’s quite awake, she’s on her feet out of bed. As she sucks down panicked breaths, the chill of the room clears her mind a little and she realizes it’s just a dream. Still she can’t shake off the sickening fright.

The duvet makes a scrunching sound as Altair gets out of bed. He walks quietly across the floor and brushes past her without a word.

 _How embarrassing._ Another proof to her immaturity; startled by a bad dream.

Altair walks to the window and fills a glass from a decanter of water that rests on the windowsill. When he hands her the glass, she takes it without meeting his gaze and drinks deeply. The water slides cold and calming down her throat and then a tingling feeling spreads through her body. It washes away the remnants of the dream as Altair takes the empty glass from her hand and returns it to the windowsill. When he returns he lifts her chin and studies her face.

“Feeling better?” he asks, and even though there’s no trace of mirth in his voice, she flushes with embarrassment.

“Yes,” she manages, hoping the darkness covers the color of her cheeks. He lets go and trudges back to his side of the bed.

“It’s still early. You need more sleep.”

As she settles back under the cover, a deep sated calm spreads in her limbs, and as warmth seeps back into her toes, Lil falls deeply asleep.

 

\---

 

When morning comes, Lil rouses to an unfamiliar sent, warm and masculine. It slides pleasantly over her tongue and tickles the back of her throat as she inhales slow and deep. She doesn’t recognize it as she emerges from her deep sated slumber, just that it’s a pleasant and comforting presence.

When she finally does, she startles backwards.

She has slept an inch away from him, curled against his chest. On his side of the bed.

She makes off into the bathroom and washes her face in cold water. His sent still fills her senses as the sight of his bare chest rushes through her mind, unbidden. She can’t claim it’s all unpleasant.

What the hell is wrong with her? How can her guard fall so easily? He is a vampire for Christ’s sake!

She puts on a clean set of clothes, tight jeans and a baggy sweater and brushes through her hair, before putting it back in the messy bun.

Looking like her usual self, she feels a little more level headed, and as ready as she’ll ever be to face the day.

He sits on the edge of the bed, waiting for her and as soon as she sees him, she feels him lull her senses and compel her to come to him.

She struggles against it, but her feet take her there anyway and then he takes her hand in his.

_Let go of me!_

He watches her as he languidly lifts her hand and kisses her palm and then the base of her wrist.

 _For the next few weeks, I will draw a few mouthfuls from your vein twice a day._ _When you have come to terms with this and no longer fear me, I will no longer restrain you. Until then, I need to make sure you don’t hurt yourself._

She grits her teeth in quiet protest as he gives her wrist another kiss and then he speaks.

“Life in the city, among humans has poisoned your body as well as your mind. Bloodletting will jumpstart a regeneration of your blood. You’ll soon start to notice the difference it makes.”

He lowers his lips to her skin and sucks, and to Lil’s utter disbelief, it sparks a flutter in her stomach.

Then his teeth sink through her skin and when he draws the first mouthful, she feels it pull along her veins to curl in rivets of pleasure in her core.

How she hates herself.

She spends the time he drinks trying to battle down the rising excitement spreading inside. By the time he is done, there’s a distinct heat settled high on her cheeks. If he notices, he makes no show of it as he lets go the control.

Her mind is an uproar of conflicted emotions, fear, arousal and anger making a jumbled mess of her. She turns away and marches in front of him down to the kitchen, giving him the cold shoulder and hoping it will fend him off.

When he takes the hint and gives her a little space, it’s not the breather she hoped for. Instead, she feels empty and abandoned.

When Lil has finished eating, she is left standing in the living room, watching as Altair leaves the house with a sinking heart. She doesn’t know what she expected, but being left alone is unnerving. She flicks a gaze around the room and remembers the terror she felt when they showed her their true nature last night. She is still unnerved, even if it’s hard to believe the truth in the light of day when all of them seem normal.

 

When Malik bids her follow, a sense of relief washes through her. He takes her through the living room, into what she soon comes to realize is a library. It’s not unusual in old mansions, but somehow she is surprised to find one here. The walls are lined with oak wood shelves, brimming with books. There must be thousands of them! Some are new, but most of them are older leather-bound tomes without a label at the back. There’s a distinct feeling of order, not a single book is out of line and there isn’t a speck of dust anywhere. Lil flicks a gaze at the strict figure walking in front of her, back straight and hands clasped behind his back and wonders if vampires are susceptible to OCD.

At the far end of the room, the shelves encircle a window, creating a recess where a cushioned seat is set, complete with throws and pillows. Bathed in natural light, it seems like the perfect place to spend her day, were she not here against her will. This is where he leads her. He motions to a book that lies there, a thick tome that seems ancient.

“During daytime, you’ll stay here and study. A section of this book holds knowledge about your kind that you need to acquaint yourself with.” He picks up the book and flips it open before flicking through a few pages until he finds the section he seeks.

He motions for her to sit. Lil climbs into the window seat and sits down cross-legged. Malik places the book in her lap before straightening. He stands there like a sentinel a few moments, evaluating before he seems to decide whatever it was is sufficient.

“If there’s something you need, please ask,” he says. Then he walks away to the other side of the room, where he takes a seat by a large desk and flips open a laptop.

The room is completely silent save for the patter of Malik’s keyboard. Lil sighs before fluffing the cushion behind her back and skootching a little further into her seat. Then she concentrates on the text.

Her assumption that it’s ancient can’t be far off. Between deciphering the _handwritten_ text and the primordial spelling of words, it’s by far the slowest thing she has ever read. It doesn’t help that she still has great doubts it’s the least bit relevant. It starts by dividing the Nymphs in different orders according to their affiliation, Naiads – the nymphs of lakes and streams, Oreiades – the nymphs of mountains, Napaiai – the nymphs of forests, Dryads – the nymphs of trees. It doesn’t take long before her eyes wander to the outside and the lush greenery of the garden. Surrounding it is an old dry stone wall and beyond that, there’s a forest. It’s raining outside and the sky is darkened by clouds. The greenery, however, seems lush and vibrant.

She would much rather go for a walk in the rain, than spend her day cooped up with this dusty old book.

At the desk, Malik clears his throat.

“Are you done already?” he says. Lil sighs.

“No,” she says. “It’s not exactly a page-turner.” He doesn’t even minutely smile at her joke.

“Get to it,” he says and turns attention back to the computer-screen.

The text seems to go on forever, regaling the genealogy of different nymph- families in ancient Greek mythology. By lunch-time, she is exasperated and Malik has told her off for daydreaming four times.

She didn’t expect that living with vampires meant dying from boredom.

When Malik’s girlfriend carries a tray containing lunch, Lil is relieved to have a break, even if Farah leaves after putting the tray down on a small side-table. Lunch is another salad for Lil and her teeth runs in water at the sight. Malik takes a seat by the table with her and pours himself a cup of tea with a rich and spicy aroma. He doesn’t invite a conversation.

Lil flicks him a guarded gaze, deliberating whether to chance asking him something that’s been brewing in her curiosity. Just as she decides against, Malik lifts his gaze to her.

“Is there something on your mind?” he says.

“I… I was just wondering… If there’s some truth to the myths, why does vampire lore say that you can’t stand sunlight?”

He regards her coolly and Lil retracts her gaze.

“I would have hoped your questions were about your topic of reading,” he says.

She should not have asked. He takes a sip of tea and to Lil’s surprise, he continues.

“The black of night is of no consequence to us. We can see just as clearly, and during conflicts in the past, some of us chose to act under cover of darkness rather than in daylight. When our targets started turning up dead at daybreak, our enemies saw fit to add the aversion to sunlight to the marks of our daemonic character. It sought to drive our support away, however; they neglected to see we were safe to walk the cities in daylight. Moreover, I think our enemies were more demoralized, than our supporters were. We never discouraged the rumor.” He smiles deviously before he lifts the cup of tea and takes another sip.

He talks as if he were there. _Witch conflicts is he talking about?_ _How old is he?_ she wonders, but for now she doesn’t dare another question.

Malik empties the cup of tea and goes back to work. Lil soon finishes her salad. She pours a cup of tea and drinks it slowly, making it last until its cold and not so pleasant anymore, trying to stall going back to studying for as long as possible. When Malik clears his throat again, she resigns and puts down the cup. She makes to take the tray back to the kitchen, but Malik stops her.

“Leave it,” he says and Lil has no other excuse to put off work any further.

She gets into the window seat again and continues reading.

\---

Dinner is served late in the evening and by then Lil has a pounding headache. Aside from Malik and Farah, Altair is there as well as Connor and Ezio with their girlfriends. Desmond left somtime in the morning, Jacob, Evie and Henry have also gone.

The vampires sit at the table drinking wine. Apparently, they do enjoy other drinks than blood, though so far none of them has touched any of the food.

Lil picks at her plate and tries to follow the conversation but constantly falls out of it. When Altair straight out asks what’s the matter, she doesn’t have the initiative to pretend.

“It’s just a headache, but I‘m not feeling well,” she says.

Ezio smiles at her from across the table.

“Aww Bella, has Malik been driving you too hard?” The banter is directed at Malik, but as Malik dismisses Ezio’s accusation with a dry comment the flash of jealousy in Emma’s eyes isn’t lost on Lil. Inside, she cringes and without thinking, she sinks a fraction closer to Altair, before rigidly stopping herself.

It’s not like she wants his protection.

Altair exchanges a few words in a foreign language with Malik as he gets to his feet. He draws her chair out as she gets up too. She doesn’t want another bloodletting, but Altair made it clear he would twice a day, and there is one in store for her before she will sleep. On top of the pain and unease, it’s enough to make her eyes burn with exhausted tears.

If she can just find some aspirins in her bag, she might be able ot bare it, but before she can get to them, Altar grabs her arm and stops her. A moment later she feels his hands on her neck and jolts away with a terrified shriek.

“Easy, child,” he coos. “I’m just going to relieve the pain.” She stares at him wide eyed until he takes her hand and makes her sit down on the edge of the bed as he takes up a position standing at her back. Then he starts to slowly knead the muscle of her shoulders, moving deliberately up her neck and down again, until he finds a knot.

“Breathe,” he says before his thumb digs into the spot. It starts as a sore ache but soon turns painful as the muscle fights against the pressure. The pain burns down her arm until she groans in discomfort and still he doesn’t let up.

“It’ll soon let go,” he says. “You’ll feel better then.”

And then it does, the muscle relaxes and the ail disappears. Lil breathes a relieved sigh, just to curse lowly as he finds another knot.

He treats that one in the same way, and the next and the next until her neck is burning and her skin is raw. He finishes off by massaging her neck and shoulders, kneading her sore muscles until she’s sated and drowsy. The blinding headache is all but gone.

“Better?” he asks and she nods quietly before craning her neck and looking at him.

“Much better. Thank you.”

She knows what’s coming next, that he is going to bite her again, and though she dreads it she can’t find it in her to fight back. When he compels her to give him her hand, she does, warily and timid. In her mind, she feels his flicker of surprise that shortly melds into pleased approval that he lets wash over her.

Lil closes her eyes as waves of comfort rolls through her body.

She could so easily get used to this if she let her guard down. The care and comfort, the pleasure and the protection, but it will not last. It never does, and once it goes, she’d be worse off than before if she gave in. So therefore, she won’t. She accepts what’s happening, but she will not be ensnared again.


	5. Resisting what you want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How will she be able to resist him when he is what she needs?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for rape and unwanted sexual attention! If you do not want to read those memories, skip the two fist paragraphs in italc.

# Resisting what you crave

_The late summer sun glares through the windows and caches the dust that drifts from the shelves to rest atop the stacks of books and papers covering every surface. Everything is just as it was that day. She even remembers the smell, the acrid dryness of the air that’s been confined for days._ _She knows what’s about to happen, has dreamed this dream before. The hairs on her neck stands on end. She wants to leave, but her legs will not move, as if stuck in molasses. And then she feels it; the Dean’s hands around her waist and his stale breath as he tries to kiss her again._

With a jolt, she rips out of the dream and surfaces in the black of night. Her skin crawls as she sits up, drawing her knees close to her chest. She tries to shake the images from her head, wills the memory to go away and let her rest. Gritting her teeth, she lets her nails dig into her palm.

She knows she made it out of that office and that it was just a dream, but her heart races as if it was real.

She’s loathe to register she has woken Altair as well and hopes to God she didn’t say anything before she woke herself.

He gets out of bed and pads across the floor. She avoids looking at his bare chest and toned abs as he returns, handing her another glass of water. Inwardly, she rolls her eyes in irritation. What’s with this guy and water? It seems to be his go-to remedy whenever she’s upset. As if that will cure her ailment.

Lil’s is not particularly thirsty, nor does she really care for water right now, but she takes the glass anyway. It’s easier to just accept it, than argue with him anyway.

She drains the glass and lies back down, turning her back at him as he gets back into bed.

For a while, she feels his gaze boring into her back and knows he is not sleeping. When his low voice breaks the silence, she is not surprised.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he says quietly.

“Not particularly, no,” she says dismissive and definite, praying that he will leave it alone.

“I’m here if you do,” he says, and then he falls quiet. He shifts a little and settles back down. She knows he is still awake, listening and monitoring. Making sure she doesn’t go anywhere. Irritation itches her nerve until she’s had enough and gets up. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the golden glow of his gaze.

“I’m going to the toilet,” she bites and avoids looking his way until the door is soundly closed behind her.

She sighs and rests her head in her palm as she takes a pee, wondering if the events of this fall will ever stop haunting her or if the memory is forever stuck to her like a leech. She feels drained and hollow, reluctant to go back to bed, lest the dream returns.

Just as she finishes washing her hands, there is a flash of lights through the room as a car approaches outside. Curious, Lil walks to the tiny window and glances outside. A black SUV rolls up the driveway and slows as it approaches the house. Then a strip of light appears a few feet in front of the car. The light extends as the car waits and grows into a box surfacing out of the ground. Surprised, Lil realizes it’s an elevator. The car pulls into the light and stops. Behind the wheel, she makes out Jacob and beside him, is Desmond. The box descends back into the ground carrying the car and the two passengers with it.

Curious. There is more to this old house than meets the eye. She’s wondered where the cars might be. A hidden, underground garage was unexpected.

Lil pads back into the bedroom, pondering the new information as she gets back under the covers. If she were to get out, she’d need a car to get away, but the underground garage means there is little chance of stealing one unseen. The problem overthrows the clammy feeling brought on by the dream. While she still feels the vampire watching her through the darkness, she finds no solution to the problem but eventually the calm to fall back asleep.

\---

_She is stuck in a haze. Something moves on the outskirts of her vision, grey figures flitting in and out of focus as she fights to see straight. There is a heavy weight settled atop her, moving and shifting and making low noises she does not understand. She is numb and dizzy, on the verge of dropping into the abyss that pulls at her, but there’s something shifting inside keeping her tethered to the haze, a stirring need so deep it’s painful now it wakes. The heaviness above her stills and then disappears, just to come back once more. Something slides wetly between her legs, enters her and stokes the fire anew as it slides and rubs and teases something deep inside until builds to a searing height of want burning through her body. It’s a famished and unbearable feeling. An insentient urge makes her move, makes her throw the weight off to settle atop it and seek fulfilment of that craving. Ravenous, she moves, rides the rigid hardness her body so desperately needs over and over and over as it promises release, feels the need roar like a beast inside as the pleasure-pain soars, as she hovers on the brink of release, and then her vision clears. Lying underneath her, face red and breath labored from exertion is the Dean._

Lil screams her lungs out. Crawls out of bed and away from the dream as she sucks down panicked breaths between disgusted sobs.

Within the blink of an eye, Altair is there, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight.

She fights his grip with all her strength. She can’t take it, can’t stand the confinement of being stuck after reliving the near memory. She knows it wasn’t the Dean there that night, but that doesn’t change a thing.

Altair doesn’t let go, rather tightens the grip until her face is caught tightly against his chest while she rigidly resists. He’s strong, unreasonably so; she’s not able to break free or even throw his balance. Wailing in frustration, she stops fighting and stays rigidly within his hold instead.

His breath tickles the crown of her head as he coos a soothing sound into her hair.

“There, child. Easy now. No one’s going to hurt you,”

It’s frustratingly comfortable, the safety he offers an alluring trap. Stuck within his grip she has no option but to suffer it. She sucks down a shuddering breath as he continues, closes her eyes and tries not to notice the hand cradling her head or the warm masculine sent that fills her senses.

“Shh,” he says. “You’re safe, little one. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

The rigid panic lets go as fatigue makes her muscles tremble. Her throat is tight and painful, remembering how she craved comfort like this after that night and the contempt she got instead. The hatred shining in her father’s eyes. She fails to contain the sob that forces its way up her throat.

“Shh,” he says again as her eyes burn with unshed tears. She knows she can’t fall for this, that she’ll soon grow addicted to this kind of comfort if she does. Still it’s what she needs. Her shuddering breath betrays her faltering countenance. He’s not letting go, and deep down inside, Lil is grateful that he doesn’t give her the choice, because right now, all she needs is someone to hold her tight. Treacherous tears rolls down her cheeks as she gives in. She leans against him and buries her face in her hands.

“Shh, little one. It’s all right.” The force of the hold lets up some, now she’s not fighting it. Instead his fingers cards through her hair as she cries against his chest with stifled sobs.

“It’s all right, don’t keep it bottled up. Let it go.”

He rocks her gently as she cries, holds her close until there are no more tears and she’s tired beyond reason. Then he lobs his arm behind her knees without asking and carries her back to bed.

He doesn’t say anything, just pulls her close and places an arm around her and she can’t find it in her to resist. Lulled in his sent, she flitters in and out of a haze until she slowly settles down and drifts off to sleep.

\---

The sun stretches it’s long fingers into the room and draws her from a deep slumber. She wakes to find his side of the bed cold and empty, his sent a lingering memory of his warm body and suddenly she feels a twinge of regret.

She misses him.

Then a stab of anger pierces her soul. Loathing herself for last night, she dismisses the moment of weakness. She vowed not to fall for his tricks and all it took was a nightmare to make her surrender. Last night she was broken and tired, her defenses shattered but the morning light brings with it new energy. She’s angry with herself for being weak, but at him she’s furious.

She pushes up and finds him watching her from across the room. Within the blink of an eye, she feels him taking over, stealing her senses and freezing her in place. His eyes are glowing as he watches her very closely.

He is already dressed, wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. When he reaches for her the muscle of his lower arm flexes. Angry, Lil tries to tare her gaze away, but to no avail. He cups her cheek and runs a thumb across her skin.

_Calm down. There is no need to be upset._

Her mind is ablaze with anger.

 _You tricked me!_ Her thoughts scream at him.

_You may tell yourself that, but we both know that it’s not true._

He’s not the least upset at her anger and the calm serenity of his control is infuriating.

_I never wanted to come here._

She grits her teeth in protest and tries to break through his control, force him out of her head.

_I know, little one._

There isn’t even a sign of strain in him as she fights.

_I never asked for your comfort._

_No you didn’t. But you can’t deal with this alone, child. It isn’t safe._

He takes her hand and kisses the base of her palm. She watches his fangs elongate while a flash of excitement trickling down her spine. Even if she consciously doesn’t want this, her body has come to anticipate the pleasure as he feeds. A blaze of anger follows at her own betrayal, before his lips charms another trickle of warmth through her veins. All the while, his eyes are locked with hers and when he bares his fangs, she can’t even prevent the catch in her breath.

Her heart flutters as his canines sinks through her skin and through the bond he enforces, she feels his satisfaction. He draws a mouthful, slowly and deliberately. The tug along her veins converges deep in her core with a curl of pleasure and suddenly she realizes he knows what this does to her. Another pull of her blood and the pleasure settles there with a heavy heat. Caught in his control, there is nothing she can do as he draws another sip. The feeling shoots down her spine to curl low in her gut. Despite the resistance she puts up, she anticipates each caress and the pleasure soars as her core clenches in response.

Just as at the party, she can’t prevent what is happening and with that recollection, panic floods her veins. Abruptly Altair seizes mid-sip. His gaze seems to intensify as her heart hammers and her breath runs fast and shallow.

_What’s wrong?_

_Please don’t do this._ The request is wavering and weak, nothing like the fire of her former anger and he pauses.

_You know it won’t harm you, child. Why the sudden fear?_

For the first time, he seems perplexed.

_I-I can’t take it any more. Please don’t._

He falls silent as he considers, mulls over her reaction and tries to make sense of it. The time it takes is a small reprieve before he answers.

_I need to draw a little more, child._

_No-_

_Just a little more. I’ll be careful._

Her eyes waters in frustration as he waits.

_You can do this, I promise. Now, take a deep breath._

She inhales shakily and then ever so slowly Altair draws a mouthful. It tingles along her nerves, but to her relief that’s where it stops. She lets out a shuddering breath and her heart calms down.

 _Good,_ his thought coos and she feels how pleased he is.

_I’m going to do two more and then we’re done. Try to relax._

She doesn’t want to comply, but as he draws another mouthful, she tries not to resist him. The pull is a fluttering tease and heat rises up her throat once more, but the coil in her gut deflates a little as he lets up.

_One more._

_Just one._

_Just the one, yes._

Lil sucks down another breath.

She counts backwards from ten, trying not to focus on the pleasure tingling at the back of her mind. By the time he is finished, she is still flushed and uncomfortably warm. He keeps her under control until his fangs retract and the wounds are closed.

_I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful tonight._

Then he kisses her brow and lets her go.

She doesn’t want to think of next time, doesn’t want to consider that he probably feels her excitement as he lets her feel his praise. It’s too intimate and nothing she wants, she tells herself angrily as she gets into the bathroom and prepares for a new day.


	6. Between the lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malik is a hardass when it comes to education and Lil is the one to suffer.

# Between the lines

After breakfast, Altair takes her back to the library. She is sullen and angry, still confused about the night and dreading the prospect of another day stuck inside with a dusty book.

She still doesn’t believe their claim and suspects the reason she’s made to stay in the library is an excuse to have her under constant surveillance and keep her from trying to Escape.

To her frustration it’s working like a charm. She is never alone and save for discovering the underground garage and rejecting the bathroom windows as a way out, she hasn’t even began to figure out an escape. The fact is miring her thoughts as Altair leads her towards the window seat, and at first, she doesn’t realize there’s something lying there, waiting for her.

A brand new Bose SoundLink rests on the seat, one she’s been drooling over since they first came on the market. With it there’s a small iPod. 

Lil picks it up and turns to give Altair a reproachful look.

“What is this? If you think you can buy me you are sorely mistaken,” she says.

“I’m not trying to,” he says. “Think of it as a refund of your phone, for now.”

Her irritation doesn’t diminish by this. Altair disregards her scowl and motions towards it.

“Desmond has uploaded your playlists to it,” he says.

“My playlists? How?”

“Copied them off the app on your phone. It’s not that complicated.”

She turns away from him and taps the screen, flips through the lists and registers they’re all there.

“Thank you,” she says reluctantly with her back turned before putting the headset on and starting the first song. Then she takes a seat with the book in her lap and stares out the window while the song thunders against her eardrums. The base thumps in beat with her heart and the dark tones of the tune fills her soul as she watches the clouded morning outside.

It’s not long before she feels his presence beside her and when she shifts her gaze, he stares at her wearing a meaningful expression and points to the book.

She sighs heavily opening the book and continues where she left off the day before.

The reading is easier, now she is familiar with the handwriting but the content is still dry as dust. She skims through the text, filtering the information and deeming it useless and uninteresting as the narrative of Nymph genealogy goes on and on.

Then suddenly her name surfaces on the page in front of her. Skimming through the text with half-hearted interest, it sparks with familiarity as if illuminated. She has to start over and read the paragraph anew to get the context.

 

‘They say that Lilaea was one of the Naiads, a daughter of the Kephisos and after this Nymphe the city of Liliai in Phokis was named.’

 

She snorts in contempt.

_‘Please don’t tell me this is the reason…’_

When a finger pokes at her shoulder, she startles and finds Altair standing by her side with Malik looking at her intently. She pulls off the headset.

“What is it?” She didn’t expect a reaction and balks slightly under their gaze.

“What did you find, Lil?” Malik says.

Lil hesitates before determination settles. This is as good a time as any to confront them. She finds the section in her book.

“They say that Lilaea was one of the Naiads…” she reads aloud and raises her gaze at them. Malik stares on, waiting for an explanation.

“Lilaea, that’s my name. I hope this is not your _evidence_ for me being a nymph,” she says.

As he stares at her, his eyes seems to darken.

“No,” he says. “It’s not.” Then he turns to Altair and the look he gives him is burns with displeasure, before that attention turns to her.

“What have read so far, child?” he asks and Lil’s mouth goes slightly dry. What is this? Is she expected to sit a test of the subject? Lil’s mind flitters as she tries to remember what she has read.

“It’s all nonsense so far. A classification of different types of nymphs, and then an endless regaling of nymph families and where they lived in Greece,” she sighs exasperated.

“And what have you gathered from that?” Malik asks his voice clipped with irritation.

Lil looks at him with growing frustration. What was there to learn? Nothing she didn’t know before. Exasperated, she meets his glare.

“That nymphs are closely connected with nature,” she says.

“Is that all you have learned?” he asks stiffly.

“That, and they had many children and very complicated names,” she quips sourly. There is a flash in Malik’s eyes and if anything, his eyes seem to darken.

“Nymphs,” he says and his voice is low and harsh, “have _power_ over forces of nature. Some can control the flow of water, others can make the trees and plants grow. Did you try to learn anything while you sat here yesterday or did you just skim through it all?” Dread pours into her veins as she realizes Malik is angry. She shifts uneasy in her seat and regrets the thoughtless answer, feels her cheeks burn and cringes under Malik’s stern gaze as he continues.

“The nymphs had many children, yes, but did you catch what else is written between the lines here?”

She flicks a gaze at Altair, seeking reassurance but he doesn’t intervene, just inclines his head as a signal to answer Malik.

Lil wrecks her brain trying to figure out what he’s aiming at and Malik’s patience dwindles.

“Of course you did not,” he huffs before continuing the lecture. “The Nymphs affiliation to the nature element, their power if you will, is not random. It is passed down from parent to child, meaning their traits are hereditary. Now where am I going with this?”

His eyes are practically glowing with annoyance as he paces slowly back and forth, awaiting her answer, but Lil’s mind is desperately blank.

Altair takes a step forward and his voice is a low rumble of warning.

“Malik.”

Malik throws him a glance and pinches the bridge of his nose before sighing in exasperation.

“She needs to take this seriously, Altair. If asking politely doesn’t make her, then maybe a bit of intimidation will.”

Altair’s jaw clenches and then he nods curtly. Their eyes fall back on her.

“Well, child?” Malik says.

“I-I don’t know,” Lil stammers.

Malik throws his hands into the air and says something in a foreign language Lil doesn’t understand.

“It means that you have dormant powers residing within you,” Altair clarifies. “Haven’t you even considered that while you were reading?”

For a second, Lil stares dumbfounded into his golden eyes before flicking her gaze away and shaking her head. No, the thought that she has some magical power has never crossed her mind, because whatever they might think, they are wrong. She’s not a nymph, and there are no hereditary powers passed down from her ancestors.

“Of course she hasn’t,” Malik bites. “She doesn’t even believe she’s a nymph.”

There is a faint smile curving the corner of Altair’s mouth.

“She will. Give her time, Malik, it’s just her second day here.”

Malik snorts in annoyance and stares at Altair.

“By this rate, it will be a lifetime before she realizes.” Then he goes back to the desk and Lil hears him mutter under his breath.

“Ignorant child…suits the novice.”

Altair glares after him before turning back to her. His face is blank and serous as he crouches before her and gently grasps her jaw.

“Malik considers your education of grave importance, little one, as do I. I suggest you take it seriously. I doubt he will look with forgiveness if you can’t answer more thoroughly the next time he asks.”

Warily Lil lowers her eyes. In her anger, she’s forgotten who and what she’s dealing with and that pushing it too far will potentially put her in grave danger. She doesn’t want to chance Malik’s anger again.

“All right,” she says, though she’s not particularly looking forward to the task.

Altair gives her a nod of affirmation, and then he leaves. Lil throws a cursory glance at Malik, before putting the headphones back on and geting back to the text.

Thankfully, she soon finishes the excruciating genealogy and the text moves on to other parts of lore as she reads on.

 

‘The Nymphaea are found in all corners of the world. In the north, they are known as Àlfir or Vanir and are counted as gods alongside the Æsir. The human population treats them with fear and respect. Sacrifices of both crops and animals are made in their honor during summer and winter solstice to secure a prosperous year. In desolate times, there are even examples of human sacrifices being made.’

Lil pauses her reading and flips to the first pages of the book. It sounds as if the northern parts of Europe are still pagan countries, but that was centuries ago. The language of the text is ancient, but it is not that old. There are no hints of the book’s age, no dates to find and she flips back to the text. It continues to regale some tales of the Vanir, of Njord, the Norse god of the sea and his daughter Frøya the beautiful goddess of fertility with the power to rejuvenate and restore life. Lil tries to read between the lines as Malik suggested, but it’s hard to take it seriously. What on earth could it mean, other than what is written?

 

‘Some àlfir possess the sight, believed able to read the fates of man and foresee the future. They are given the title of Volve, and wander the land in solitude. If well treated the Volve will share her knowledge, but one must take care never to cross her. More than any other being the Volve is feared, in part for her shifting moods and in part for her magic powers.

The same powers of the sight are known between the nymphaea of the south in Karnak, Siwa and Delpi, where oracles have been consulted over hundreds of years _.’_

Lil scrunches her brow in concentration. She’s trying to pick out any underlying knowledge, but again she draws a blank. In exasperation, she flips a few pages forward intent to try again, if another paragraph will bestow greater insight.

 

‘Characteristics of the Nymphaea.

The nymphaea shares many similarities with the human female and it can be hard to differentiate visually between the two. More often than not, the nymphaea displays a slender figure with a narrow pelvis resulting in moderate curves rather than opulent ones. The nymphaea are not prone to corpulence. However, these signs are not definite enough to distinguish a nymph. More definite are the invisible characteristics, longevity, keen senses and sharp perception.

Moreover, there is the absence of monthly blood. The nymphaea’s season is rare; her blood following the changes of season, rather than the moon.’

Lil’s heart stops beating and she has to reread the last sentence two more times, as the gravity of it sinks in. She closes the book and clenches her hands into tight fists, trying to still their trembling. Then she stiffly gets to her feet and approaches Malik by his desk.

“I need to go to the toilet,” she says averting her gaze from him, and hoping her heart doesn’t give her inner turmoil away. When he sighs and gets to his feet, she hurries in front of him through the living room and across the hall until she can close the door behind her in solitude.

She has always thought her infrequent periods were a passing thing, a result of too much exercise or stress. Something she’d grow out of. Now she sees the irregularity in a new light and finds the frequency fits. She can’t make her hands stop trembling and clenches them in vain, considering the new possibility. Could they possibly be right? Her mind searches through memories for evidence in her past. She has always loved staying out in the rain, enjoyed strolling between the trees in the park.

Did she ever feel anything when she did? When she heard the rustle of leaves or watched the squirrel’s flight up the branches?

She lifts her gaze and catches her mirror image across the room, a pale face with deep blue eyes taring widely back at her. Her brow sinks into a frown.

How idiotic. Lots of people likes rain and walks in the park. That doesn’t make them elves. She’s got to stop searching for evidence where there is none.

Annoyed with herself, Lil leaves after making sure to flush and wash her hands. She won’t risk losing the only private space she has. 

\---

After lunch, Malik decides she’s had enough time to read and that it’s time for another test. He paces the floor slowly as she sums up what she’s been through. He listens with a blank expression on his face as if it’s all something he’s heard a hundred times before. She has no clue if he is satisfied or if he is just waiting to snap at her again. As always when expecting failure, itchy nerves eat at her patience. She anticipates his dissatisfaction as she stops short of her last discovery and falls silent. 

“Mhm,” Malik hums, “and what are your thoughts on this?”

“This book must be ancient,” she says.

“Yes,” he says. “Anything else?”

It’s a puny attempt of distraction, and probably not worth it, but she doesn’t care.

“How did you come by it?”

“This is just a copy,” he says, “and you are eluding the question.”

Lil sighs.

“Nymphs once had status,” she says.

“Did they?”

She looks at him uncertain.

“That’s what it says, isn’t it? At least in the north.”

His eyes are unreadable wells of blackness.

“And in the south?” he asks.

“In the south… are you thinking of the oracles? They were sort of priestesses, weren’t they? That’s almost the same.”

“Is it?” She studies his face but finds no clue to the answer.

 “I don’t know,” she says and picks at a feather peeking out of one of the pillows.

 She feels his eyes on her, but the chiding she expects doesn’t come.

 “The oracles lived in the temples under close guard,” Malik says. “For their safety or…” he trails off leaving the words hanging I the air and Lil realizes the truth.

“They were captives,” she says and flicks her eyes up at him. “Their powers were exploited.”

A small smile graces Malik’s lips.

“Exactly,” he says. “And the difference between the two?”

He waits while the gears of her mind works. Then something clicks in place.

“Civilization?” she asks uncertain and Malik hums.

“Is that what brought them down?” she says surprised. Something does not quite ad up. “Why was the lone nymph of the north considered a threat, while those in the south were held captive? The Vikings were warriors, weren’t they?”

He watches her a moment with a curious light in his eyes before he answers.

“The oracles of the south were subdued with drugs,” he says. “That, and captivity drained their strength, just like life in the city has drained your’s.”

Doubt silently argues the statement in her mind, but she doesn’t voice her thoughts.

Instead, she keeps them to herself, reminding herself that going along with it might just slacken her reins enough to find a way out.


	7. Beguiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altir's patience is up. He knows she hides someting important, something he needs to know and he will get to it. With whatever means necessary.

# Beguiled

The afternoon drags on like pine sap running down the gnarly trunk on a warm day and Lil steals a moment looking outside. The trees rustle in the breeze and the wind picks up dead leaves from the ground, making them dance. Hosts of sparrows take flight, flitting from one tree to another in search for food until they disappear into the forest.

She wish she could follow them and disappear into the foliage too.

At the desk, Malik shifts in his seat and Lil turns back to the book, pretending to read. Malik taps the keyboard a few times, and then starts shutting down the computer. He flicks her a gaze and Lil wonders if there is another test coming.

“You can put the book down, Lil. We’re finishing up for the day.”

Lil marks the text and flips the book closed, before climbing out of the window seat. She fidgets slightly, her hands restlessly seeking employment as she waits for further instructions, not really sure what to do next. Malik busies himself with tidying up the desk, putting everything in order before he comes over. A ghost of a smile flickers through his eyes as they fleetingly locks onto her hands, before he collects the book and restores it to the vacant spot on the shelf.

“Come,” he says. “Let’s find Altair.”

Lil clenches her fists along her sides as she follows him from the room.

In the living room Desmond, Ezio and Emma are watching TV, but turns it off as soon as Lil enters the room. The air seems fresher in the larger space and as Malik halts, Lil stretches her arms above her head, straightening her back with a stifled yawn. Desmond turns his head toward them and addresses Malik.

“Altair is in his room,” he says. Then his eyes flicks to watch Lil.

She gives him a faint smile lowering her arms, but then she notices Ezio observing her too with a curious look in his eyes. Malik gives the party a short nod before stepping aside in order for her to lead the way. She has the distinct feeling there’s something she’s missing as she leaves, but when she flicks a last gaze back, they’re back to watching TV.

She ponders their curious behavior as she climbs the stairs with Malik following close behind. Why were they watching her like that? Was there something curious about her clothes or her hair? She runs a hand over her head, smoothing back stray locks, however finds nothing odd. Drawing a deep breath, Lil discards the oddity as a figment of her imagination before turning her attention to her surroundings.

That’s when she first notices. The soft whiff of something in the air that curls pleasantly along her tongue and tickles her senses. Something suggestive and delicious. She draws another deep breath as she reaches the top of the stairs and halts to wait for Malik.

He follows her attentively now she has stopped and his eyes are unreadable wells of onyx black as she turns a questioning gaze his way.

“What’s that smell?” she says, and his eyes seem to spark with sharpness.

“You smell something?” he asks. Lil turns her head and draws another breath, feeling the sent tickle her senses with curiosity.

“Don’t you feel it?” she says.

Malik lifts his head and looks down the corridor.

“Not particularly, no,” he says. He waits while she lingers, then follows again when she wanders down the hall.

The sent is still there, pleasant and comforting, playfully meandering in and out, as she moves on. Lil cannot fathom how he doesn’t sense it. It’s as if it grows stronger the further they walk. She sniffs the air again. Yes, definitely growing stronger. What is that smell?

Malik steps by her side and when they reach Altair’s room, he reaches for the knob and opens the door for her.

It’s as if she has stepped into a wave. The sent crashes down on her to flood her senses and rivets her to the spot. It’s heady and strong and sends her all her senses rearing and her heart throb. She doesn’t quite notice Malik’s crooked grin as he ushers her inside with a hand at her back.

She draws a shallow breath and feels her heart pound in her ears and her mouth go dry. At the other end of the room Altair is leaning against the wall, but stands and crosses his arms as Malik enters the room and closes the door behind him.

The air is thick with the sent, and Lil suddenly knows what it is. The warm notes of earth and spices she has smelled before, woken up to, but now it’s mixed with something else. Something dark and masculine and delicious that sends her pulse pounding, gathering low in her gut and making her dizzy.

She cannot stand it. Abruptly she turns around, intent to escape out into the hallway, but Malik is there to stop her. His arm wraps around her waist and stills her flight, before strong hands wrap around her upper arms. Then he turns her around to face Altair again, his chest at her back and his hands securely on her shoulders, keeping her tethered to the spot.

Her heart is pounding as she flicks him a wide-eyed gaze. Malik smiles. 

“It’s OK child. Just breathe,” he says.

Altair has halted half way across the floor. He seems to have come straight from the gym, dressed in some sort of capri-sweats that ends at his calves and hugs low around his hips. The tight t-shirt, underlines his perfectly toned body, all hard planes and sinew muscle making him radiate strength.

All something she notices in a blink of an eye before it’s too much and she has to look away.

She scrunches her eyes shut and draws another shallow breath, trying to avoid the intoxicating effect he has.

“W-what is this? Why does he smell like this?” she stutters.

Malik’s laughter rumbles in his chest at her back.

“This is just your senses awakening, child,” he says and strokes soothingly up and down her arms.

It’s hard to breathe as Altair approaches. She can feel him shift, senses his gaze intensify as the sent turns dark and powerful. She tries not to breathe it in, tries desperately to avoid inhaling the deliciously dark smell but soon fails miserably. It rolls over her tongue, dances through her veins and her mind turns to mud. She takes another shuddering breath and drinks him in. Altair cups her cheek and tilts her head up, making her face him.

He is unearthly beautiful as his eyes burns with that curious and intense gaze. She cannot tare her own away as the sent wraps around her, drowns her in that potent drug, picking away her defenses and leaving her bare before him. There is no resistance left as he takes over her mind.

“Shh,” he says. “Shh, easy. I know it’s a little much, but it’s necessary.”

She swallows hard and thinks she knows what he means, her mind swimming as a heavy heat settles firmly between her thigs. Any apprehension there were is gone and left is only a growing want and anticipation. He is a marvelous specimen, lean and strong and virile. She knows with al her being he is what she needs.

“You see little one,” he continues. “There is something I need. Something that you keep hidden. Something I have to uncover.”

His low voice makes the heat in her gut curl and simmer. She needs him too, feels it burn like an ache through her body while his eyes burn through her soul. His thumb strokes across her lower lip making her swallow hard. There’s no fear in her, only anticipation at what comes next. He smells so good, makes her feel so _good_. He can make her soar.

“Will you show me what you hide?” he says, but her befuddled mind is blank. What does she hide? She wants so desperately to please him and give him the answer, wants to feel his praise as she did once before, but she can’t see past the growing desire.

“Don’t you remember?” he says. “It’s something unpleasant, something you have wanted to forget. If you give it to me I’ll make it go away.”

His voice rumbles warm and intimately, making her feel safe. Her mind searches every corner of her memory and then it grasps something. An image flashes across her mind of a dim and foggy room, with muffled voices and then the smell of alcohol fills her senses. Lil freezes and her addled mind clears a little. Notices the tight hold on her mind and balks. His voice shifts, unwavering and firm.

“I have to know what happened to you child,” he says. Instantly she fights him, tries to gather her thoughts and push the memory back, but he’s not letting go.

 _Show me_ , he bids, and Lil can feel the way his will picks away at the walls locking the memory back.

The barriers are slowly crumbling and little by little, he learns of the frat party at the end of summer; her first drunken experience. Of the boy she secretly admired and how good it felt when he noticed her. How he confessed feelings for her too.

Once she gets going, there’s no holding the memory back and Altair learns about the kissing leading to the empty room upstairs. The haze that overcame her. Of not comprehending what happened and the sliding sensation she did not understand. The craving it woke inside, a ravenous beast that frightened her and a hunger so deep she couldn’t resist. The insentient urge that made its claim on her.

How she soared.

Then of the ruin. Of waking up alone, her clothes disheveled and torn. The disorientation and the sore ache. The emptiness inside. Of the dread that something awful had happened.

Of discovering the video online and the betrayal, that it was all a bet.

He learns about the shame. The resent. The unwanted attention. The nightmares and the loneliness. The hope that it would end; that once the semester was over, she could disappear. 

She’s not really sure if she is telling him or if he is reliving it beside her, just that his presence seems to dull the pain. All the while, she feels his anger like a low burning furnace through the bond he enforces, but it’s never directed at her.

When the memory has played full course, she is desolate. She wishes she had not gotten drunk that night, not placed her trust in that boy. Wishes she never went upstairs. In the end, she went there willingly and what happened was her own fault.

“It was _not_ your fault, Lilaea.”

Her mind still despairs at having put herself in that position, but this time something stops her from going down the path of self-loathing thoughts she has gone so often. Something holds her back.

_You did nothing wrong._

As Altair gently grasps her neck, the self-loathe disperses and when she tries to hold on, it’s like trying to catch the morning mist.

_Let it go, child._

And with that, something inside her does. It lets go with fatigued relief as if a tight grip has held on for too long.

He strokes back her hair and she feels how pleased he is with her. She leans into the caress and tilts her chin up, breathes him in and relish in his comfort. The desire for him rekindles; courses through her veins. He is so close, his full lips mere inches away. If she dared, she could kiss him. When he leans slowly forward, she closes her eyes, feels his breath upon her skin before his lips brush her cheek.

How she wishes he would have kissed her.

“Thank you,” he says and as she opens her eyes her senses returns.

Her hands are pressed against his chest, only a t-shirt separating her palms from his warm skin and hard muscle. She lets go as if burned, stumbles back trying to escape the ensnaring fumes enveloping her. Torn between giving in to the desire and staying the hell away from him, she whimpers in despair. Then her foot catches the edge of the carpet and she falls to her knees.

Suddenly Malik is there crouching down with a gentle hand on her shoulder and offers her a glass of water. 

“Drink,” he says. “It’ll make it stop.”

Desperate to regain control of herself, she swallows down what he offers without a question. The liquid slides cold and fresh down her throat. Her heart slows down, and a quiet calm spreads through her body. When the glass is empty, she closes her eyes and breathes a relieved sigh.

The curious odor is gone, her senses clear. What power Altair had over her is gone.

She opens her eyes and finds him standing a few feet away, with his back turned and a hand ruffling through his hair. He speaks lowly and rapidly with Malik in that foreign language she thinks is Arabic. It sounds harsh and angry in her ears the few seconds it takes for her to comprehend.

He is telling Malik everything.

Anger blazes white-hot inside.

What right has he to reveal her secrets?

Something primal roars, and before she knows it, Lil is tearing towards him, driven by a fury she has never felt before. She barely notices him shift as she barrels into him with full force.

There is a flicker of surprise though, as his weight actually shifts and she brings him Down.

The fight is short-lived. Before she recovers, Altair is settled on top of her, his weight stilling her movement and his hands locking hers to the floor above her head, his fangs bared in a snarl.

“No,” he says. “No, Lil. You will not go down that path.”

She’s still angry and struggles furiously against him.

“ _No_ ,” he repeats, and then her senses are flooded with his anger as he takes over her mind.

_I needed to know, Lil, and now we will make them pay. The ones who did this will never harm anyone again._

She feels the fury that fills him. On her behalf. The burning rage inside her quells in apprehension, cools like embers out of the fire, and with it the inhuman strength that overcame her disappears. She is no match for him and she stops struggling. He lets up a bit on the grip on her wrists, but still he holds her down. His anger quells too, or he just closes it off from her mind as his eyes seems to soften. 

_You are not alone, child. It’s time you understand and accept the fact._

She slumps underneath him as fatigue burns through her muscles. He lets her mind and body go, gets to his feet. Extends a hand and draws her up as if she weighs nothing. How on earth did she manage to knock him over? She is bewildered and confused, startled at her own strength and the uncontrollable surge of rage.

Across the floor, Malik watches her very closely, his eyes glowing with a dark quality that tells her he is prepared to intervene at the first sign of trouble. Altair gives him a low wave, and Malik seems to stand down as he relaxes.

Her cheeks burn. She outright assaulted Altair. Attacked him without warning. She has never done anything like that before, never been in a fight, rarely even a verbal spar. And now she took down a vampire. A vampire who she would have gladly given herself to only seconds before. She’s not sure what’s scarier; the rampant rage or the fervent desire, that nearly made her kiss him.

She wraps her arms around herself, feeling utterly exposed and vulnerable; vary and tired, fearing her sanity is slipping.

Altair stays beside her and regards her calmly.

“How are you feeling, child?” he asks. He lifts a hand and reaches for her, and Lil shirks away. Doesn’t want him anywhere close to her at this moment. Doesn’t want to stay here, stuck in this room between them and under their close scrutiny. She feels as if she is about to break, shatter into a million tiny pieces if she has to endure it much longer.

Willing her voice not to falter, she opens her mouth and speaks.

“I’m hungry,” she says quietly.


	8. Out of her hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her sense of self is fragile, her self-control hanging in a shriveled thread. Altair is there to pick up the pieces.

# Out of her hands

Dinner is served as plate settings of roast beef, green vegetables and steaming hot gravy. Altair gives hers a single glance, before taking her knife and fork and cutting everything in bite-sized pieces. Then he takes her knife and puts down out of her reach.

His action does not go unnoticed, but no one comments or says anything about it. Still she feels their curious gazes gracing her before looking away.

Lil lowers her eyes, feeling insulted and utterly disheveled. She ignores the looks and tries to shut out the low chatter, wills them all to hell.

The conversation is all artificial and forced; effected by the suppressed urgency that hovers in the room. The vampires are waiting. More or less patient they anticipate Altair’s report as soon as dinner is done.

Soon, they will all know what really happened.

Lil feels sick. Her claim of being hungry was a ruse to get out of the bedroom, and now she cannot stomach anything. Her grip on the fork tightens until her knuckles go white and beside her, Altair leans close.

“Do I have to remove your fork too?” he asks quietly. Lil shakes her head in reply without looking at him, but he does not take his eyes off her until she wills her muscles to relax, unclenches the hold on her fork. It takes more than she’s ready to confess not to tremble and pretend everything is all right as she slowly pierces a piece of broccoli, then swiftly places it in her mouth and starts eating.

She’s not OK.

The more she thinks about the incident, the more unnerved she is. She has no control over herself what so ever. Had she been able to, she would have wrung his neck, of that she’s certain.

She’s turning into a beast. Her heart goes cold with dread.

Luckily, she is no match for Altair, though she isn’t certain that is all a good thing. She understands now, more than ever what power resides in him. If he chose to, she would stand no chance against him. He could make her claim him and she would not be able to resist. Just the recollection of how she reacted to him is enough to make her cheeks burn, and she quickly pushes the thought away.

Apparently, her frozen silence has drawn his attention to her again as he gently takes her hand and brings it down under the table, resting it in his against his side while he pinches the bridge between her thumb and index finger.

Not wanting to draw attention, she apprehensively lets him.

As usual, he seems to be able to calm her even if her mind is still in uproar. He takes a sip of the long-stemmed glass, pretending to follow the chatter and disregard her, but when she steals a glance his way, she still finds his eyes resting attentively on her.

She spends the rest of dinner blindly staring into her plate, in one moment willing it finished and the next never to end.

\---

When it eventually does end, the vampires slip away towards the office and the door closes behind them. Lil stares after them, before starting to pace the floor nervously. She is to stay in the living room with Malik and the girls, watch a movie while the meeting commences behind closed doors.

The movie is just starting and Malik is intently trying to catch her attention.

“Lil,” he eventually says. “Come sit down. They will be in there a while.”

She absolutely loathes the thought of waiting, of sitting down and staying still. There is too much restless energy coursing through her veins to even consider it.

She flicks another edgy gaze at the closed door, before turning on her heel.

“I need to go to the toilet,” she mumbles and stalks across the floor and out into the hallway.

Malik follows without a comment but through the door, she hears someone sigh in irritation and Emma’s voice.

“I know; what a drama queen!”

It’s the final straw. Lil rushes into the bathroom and empties the contents of her stomach in the toilet, retches until there is only bile left. Then she slumps to the floor and rests her head against the wall. Beside her, Malik steps over the threshold and crouches by her side.

His dark eyes holds a gentle quality as he strokes back a lock of her hair, before he grabs her hand. Without a word, he draws her to her feet and walk her back out into the hall. He steers her with a gentle hand at her back, past the living room and onwards toward another entrance to the office at the end of the hall. There, he knocks once and without waiting, he opens the door and ushers her into the room.

The vampires have gathered at the end of the room, seated in a half circle around Altair in the window seat. As the door opens, they all turn towards the disturbance. The room is scarcely lit; a lone candle on the table between them casts a warm glow on their faces and plunges the edges of the room into darkness.

Malik addresses the room in general and says something calmly in Arabic as he takes her further into the room. The circle parts to let her through, and Malik motions for her to take a seat beside Altair. Lil slumps down beside him, fatigued and trembling.

She doesn’t particularly want to be here either, but between waiting in the living room and being present at the meeting, the latter is the lesser pain. Still, her eyes burn with unshed tears as Malik leaves and closes the door behind him.

Altair regards her, before he draws her further into the window seat, into the crook of his arm and against his chest. Then he starts talking, relaying her story in Arabic with a low and level voice. Lil closes her eyes and hates herself, for being weak and not resisting him, for taking comfort in his close embrace and for the fact that her heart only seems to calm when he is there.

His narrative continues in the same calm tone, but agitation soon rolls off the others in waves. Lil shrinks in her seat at the angered hisses and growls the vampires exclaim. Altair strokes her arm soothingly while he finishes the narrative. A discussion ensues, arguments flying back and forth between the men. Even if Lil has no knowledge of the language, she understands that they’re discussing the right course of action.

She wonders what they plan, and a trickle of fear runs down her spine. What will they do to the boy and his pack of friends? She’s whished them nothing good ever since it happened, but now; facing the possibility of revenge, she’s not that certain. How does vampires go about revenge? Where does their moral draw a line? The thought that someone might kill in her name…

She shifts uneasy in her seat. Feels her throat constricts as her heart pounds hard against her neck.

“What are you planning to do?” she blurts and the discussion abruptly halts.

A few glances are exchanged, before Jacob answers.

“Were going to put a stop to their little games,” he says.

It’s not a real answer.

“Are you going to kill them?” she says quietly.

Connor sighs and looks away, while Desmond finds his hands remarkably interesting. Jacob regards her coolly, and then he speaks.

“Do you care if we did?” he says.

She stares at him, feeling sick to her stomach.

“Please don’t,” she blurts. She wants the boys stopped, wants them punished, but dead… That would not be fair. The perpetrators are someone’s sons, someone’s brothers. She doesn’t want to cause more pain.

Jacob sends a pointed glare towards Connor who huffs and grits his teeth. She glances between them, seeking reassurance in their eyes, but finds none as their gazes flits away, one after another. In the end, there’s just Altair left. She crawls to her knees and faces him.

“Please…” she says. “I don’t think I could bare to know they’re dead because of me.”

He regards her intently before he answers.

“If they die,” he says slowly and meticulously, “their blood is on their own heads.”

“I do not want them dead! If I knew you would.. I never would have… ” her throat is tight with pent up frustration and her eyes burn treacherously. She swallows hard trying to push down the desperation in her voice. “I never should have told you!”

Altair sits up and reaches for her, grasps her hand and finds her gaze.

“Child,” he says. “I gave you no choice. What happens is not in your hands and never will be. Now I think you’ve had enough distress for one day.”

“I-I don’t-“ Altair disregards her fretting, calmly gets to his feet and addresses the others.

“Jacob, Desmond. You know what to do.” Then he draws her to her feet and takes her away, back through the house and up to the bedroom. Tears blur her vision and tumble heavily down her cheeks all the way.

Altair closes the door behind him and pulls her to him, tilts her head up and finds her gaze. Waves of approval rolls through the bond from him, a warm and comforting appraise.

_You marvelous girl. You nearly break apart and still you have capacity to show compassion._

His voice coos inside her head as he gently dries away her tears.

_You are so much stronger than I thought little one, but this burden you will not carry. You will feel no remorse over what happens to these people._

He picks away her heartache and her fretful despair, cleanses her soul until there’s just quiet fatigue left. It is blissfully quiet as his golden eyes glow warmly down upon her, descends closer until his lips brushes her forehead.

_Sleep, little one._


	9. Face to face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She is beginning to understand that they might be right, that she's not human. Altair knows and now he makes her face the facts, and the one thing she is trying to avoid.

# Face to face

 

She wakes to the flickering sheen of a lone candle. Outside, empty blackness leaves no surplus light to filter through the curtains. It’s the dead of night and the house is silent. A yawn stretches her mouth, before her belly lets out a deep growl of dissatisfaction.

Beside her Altair chuckles lowly.

“I wondered how long it would take before your gut woke you,” he says.

Lil stretches and crawls to a sitting position on the bed. Altair is leaned against the headboard, a digital pad balancing on his knee as he cuts a slice of apple with a sharp double bladed knife. He holds the piece out, offering it to her.

“Want some?” he asks.

Lil nods and takes the piece and eats. It’s fragrant and juicy and when he offers her another she accepts that one too. Once the apple is gone, he puts the pad away before fetching a tray that he puts down in the middle of the bed. It contains a selection of fruits and nuts. She identifies ripe peaches and a bowl of pines, almonds and cashews. Altair picks up a peach and starts cutting it into bite-size pieces while Lil munches on a mouthful of nuts. One by one, he hands her the pieces, dripping with sweet juices. She wolfs them down until it stills the worst of her hunger. Then she notices the bowl containing small purple garlics on the tray. It puzzles her that he brought garlic, but as she picks one up, she understands it’s not. Curiously, she looks at Altair.

“What are these?” she asks.

“They’re figs. Have you never seen one before?” She shakes her head and he takes it from her hand, divides it into four pieces before handing three of them back. Then he wrings the last piece inside out and bites off the soft inner flesh.

Lil mirrors his technique and is surprised by the exotic flavor and the intense sweetness. It’s the first thing she’s eaten since she came here that resembles sweets and she devours it with passion. When Altair cuts and hands her another she accepts that one too and savors the taste, before washing it all down with a glass of water.

The drink trickles down her throat. Then it’s as if she feels it spread through her body, like sparkles of energy tingling to the very tips of her fingers. Perplexed she watches her hands, but sees nothing out of the ordinary.

“What’s in the water?” she asks.

Altair regards her quietly a moment before he answers.

“It’s just water,” he says. “But it comes from a spring and has never sat still inside a pipe.”

His gaze never leaves as he waits for her reaction.

Lil doesn’t know what to say.

“Does it taste different than you’re used to?” he says.

Lil shirks from his gaze and shakes her head.

“But you are starting to understand, aren’t you, child? That you are different?”

He cuts another piece of peach and puts it in his mouth. Cuts another and offers it to her as she avoids answering. Realization has been dawning on her all day, ever since she entered the room and the mere smell of him triggered some unknown force inside.

Ever since the beast reared it’s ugly head.

“We can’t put off this conversation any further, little one.”

She understands as much, agrees with a short nod looking away.

“I don’ know what happened…”

She lifts her head and flicks him an uncertain gaze. His eyes follows her, focused and unreadable as the words stick in her mouth.

“When you floored me?” he finishes, without a hint of amusement. “What did it feel like?”

She looks away across the room, remembers seeing him standing there, telling Malik everything.

“Rage,” she says. “Unrestrained and blinding fury. I’ve never felt anything like it…”

“Mmm,” he hums. “But you’ve spent a lot of time being angry, frightened and sad lately. What outlet has that found?”

Her gaze falters under his scrutiny. What has she done? Bottled it up and swallowed it down.

She gives him a stiff shrug for answer.

“I meant what I said, little one. Dealing with this alone, keeping things locked inside is dangerous. Pent up energy will eventually find an outlet, and if you store it for too long you will not be able to control it.”

“Was that what happened?”

“Partly,” he says before refilling her glass from a decanter sitting at his nightstand. She watches the water swirl and settle down, while she considers it in a new light.

“Every time I’ve been upset, you’ve given me water. Why is that?” she says.

A smile stretches the corner of his lip.

“By now I think you know, don’t you?”

“It has a calming effect.”

“Yes, you would have felt that,” he says. “More precisely it restores balance and replenishes your energy. Something you need in ample means.”

Then he turns serious again.

“I know how scary going through a change like this can be. It’s important that you don’t let it drown you. Whether you like it or not, right now you need the safety and comfort offered to you.”

His word ignites a spark of indignation, and she can’t contain a huff and this time he confronts her.

“Out with it, child.” he says. “It’s time you start voicing your thoughts, rather than breathing them out in sighs and huffs.”

“You’re a vampire,” she says. “How safe do you think I feel? You scare the hell out of me.”

“You know, that’s not true. You’ve slept soundly an inch away from me every night. Whenever there is too much stress, you consciously or unconsciously seek me out for comfort. It is not me you fear, child.”

Taken aback she finds no words to rebuff the statement, and deep down she knows he might be right.

“What you fear is the change that takes course inside you. What it is waking inside,” he speaks calmly, letting the words slowly sink in. “Just like the anger, denying its existence and bottling it up is dangerous, and you need to learn to let it out.”

She looks at him confused, trying to decipher what he is trying to say. And then it sinks in.

She wraps her arms around herself and looks away unable to meet his gaze. Her face is practically ablaze, the embarrassed heat burning on her skin.

“Child,” he says softly, and it doesn’t help her abashed discomfort, the way his voice caress her soul.

“Don’t let shame have any part of this. Sexuality is a natural part of every being. Only humans teach their children to be ashamed of it.”

Lil cannot find words to answer him or tell him off, so she stares intently into the wall as her heart hammers in her chest.

“To a nymph it’s a source of strength, of healing and regeneration. You need to start getting yourself off.”

Just as Lil decides to escape the mortification and run off into the bathroom, he catches her hand and stops her. She’s stiff as a board and can barely breathe while she feels his gaze burn into her side.

“Do you understand what’s at stake here if you don’t?” he asks, and now a hint of irritation is seeping into his voice, though she has the feeling he tries to suppress it.

Reluctantly she nods her head, once, sensing the frustration he harbors stilling a bit.

“Then I think you should go take a shower and get to it,” he says.

Lil clenches her jaw as a mix of sick dread and mortification churns inside. “It doesn’t work like that,” she says. “It doesn’t just happen.”

“What do you mean?”

Lil tries ripping her hand from his hold, but he holds her back gently and then he lifts her chin until he finds her eyes. He studies her with a searching gaze and if possible, her cheeks burn even hotter. He is heartedly unfazed with her bashful unease and eventually she cannot avoid answering.

“I’ve never…” the words sticks in her throat.

“You’ve never gotten yourself off,” he says. She clenches her eyes shut, willing this whole situation to go away; whishing that a black hole would appear and swallow her whole. Altair’s voice is low when he continues. “Little one, do you mean to say, that night at the party is the only time you’ve ever come?”

Her embarrassment is complete as she gives him another curt, unwilling nod.

He mutters something under his breath in anger, probably a curse of some sort and then he sighs.

“I’m sorry, Lil. Sometimes I forget that there is still innocence in this world. Nevertheless, this changes nothing. You just have to learn.”

“It’s not as if I haven’t tried,” she blurts, a bit offended at being labeled innocent. He narrows his eyes at her.

“It’s not as if you’ve let it happen either.”

Her mouth snaps shut as her mind searches for a proper retort and turns up empty.

“How come you fight it so hard?” he says.

 _Cause letting go worked so well the last time_ , she muses bitterly. Her jaw clenches as she imagines what would happen if she let go. Meanwhile, Altair’s patience is waning.

“I’d rather you gave me the answers I need, Lil,” he says.

Relenting, Lil flicks him a gaze and fights to put words together.

“Last time… I couldn’t stop… and if…” Her throat clogs up and she can’t get out another word.

Altair sighs.

“Do you think you could best me, child?” he asks. Lil keeps her eyes averted and shakes her head.

“I told you I would never touch you, never force myself on you.”

“But if I…”

He forces her to face him again, and when she does his golden eyes glow with a warm light.

“Child, I would not touch you unless you asked me to, in your right mind.

She feels the earnest in him, even if he doesn’t control her, and her unease rests a little.

His arm hangs over his knee as he holds her hand in his, his thumb stroking the back of hers in soothing motions.

“Then you will promise to practice?” he asks and her cheeks heat up again. How can anyone talk so freely about this topic? Bashfully she nods her consent.

“And you will promise not to fight it?” The question is a statement with only one accepted answer, and again Lil gives him a tentative nod.

“Good,” he says before turning her hand palm up and slowly bringing it to his lips.

Her eyes flick to him, surprised.

“Y-you mean now?”

“Yes,” he says.

He kisses her palm and then her wrist and a tingle of energy sparks on her skin. Her eyes are wide with apprehension as her heart flutters in her chest.

“So soon.” Rising nerves makes the words spill from her lips before she can stop. Altair fixes her in a pointed stare.

“Do you think waiting will make it any easier?” He keeps her fixed in his gaze until she relents and shakes her head. When he continues his voice softens.

“If you prefer, I won’t control you,” he says.

“You’re not going to compel me?”

“It might be easier for you if I didn’t,” he says. “But that means you cannot pull away. You will have to give me your arm and let me feed. You have to let go, child. Completely.”

The thought of having her mind to herself as he makes her come is a little less disconcerting and the alternative quite a bit less attractive.

“OK,” she says and swallows. Her mouth has suddenly gone dry.

“Then lay down,” he says. Lil moves on his quiet instructions until she lies before his crossed legs looking up at him.

“Give me your hand,” he says and when she lifts her arm above her head his eyes are glowing, the color turned a molten gold. He rests his elbows on his knees as he takes her narrow hand in both of his, bends the wrist back slightly and draws a breath along her skin. Somehow, having him looming above her is both comfortable and unnerving.

“Close your eyes little one.”

He doesn’t have to tell her twice as she starts to feel the awkwardness of the situation. He doesn’t let her mull it over either as his lips closes down on her wrist. This time, the kiss is firm and draws slightly on her skin, before he outright sucks.

The way heat promptly curls in her gut almost startles her, and Altair lets up a bit.

“You’re going to feel it a little stronger when I’m not controlling you,” he says.

“Mhm,” she manages as her heart hammers in her chest. Desire has been quietly simmering beneath the surface for days, pushed down and controlled with every heartbeat and now it takes nearly nothing to bring it forth. A warm sensation is already spreading high on her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose.

His lips closes down on her pulse and gives her skin a series of kisses and small sucks. She can’t contain a small gasp as warmth spreads through her body and converges between her thighs. Altair says nothing before he sucks in rapid succession again. Her breath catches in her throat as her gut flips excitedly. The escaped moan that follows makes her take cover in the crook of her elbow.

Altair pauses, and then she feels his hand caress her cheek.

“Don’t hide your face, little one. I need to know if you are all right.”

He lifts her arm away and she can feel him shift before he continues in the same low and soothing voice.

“What happens is nothing to be ashamed of, child. It is time you embrace it and learn the true strength of your kind.”

Her heart quickens as she senses a hint of the dark scent his altered state emits as it envelops her.

She opens her eyes a fraction to find his golden eyes focused on her, unwavering and assessing. Then he bares his fangs and a flash of heat goes through her body as she anticipates his feeding. Enthralled, she watches the sharp canines sinking through her skin to find her blood flow. Her heartrate skips a beat at the low rumble in his throat and the way his eyes seem to darken. She closes her eyes, feels the thrumming energy in her body as a tightly strung coil about to release.

The first pull of her blood settles attention straight at her core.

_Oh!_

It’s what her body has awaited, anticipated for days. Desire soars with every tug and pull that strokes something inside until all her nerve endings sparkle. Soon her inner muscles flutters with the thrum of her pulse.

A desperate keen is her last sentient recollection before Altair starts drinking in earnest and pleasure courses like liquid light through her veins. All strength leaves her limbs. She is awash in ecstasy, wave after wave crashing down on her and drowning her in tingles of warmth and starlight. Lost to the world, she moans and arches into the feel, turns her head and bares her throat, basking in the glory of his caress.

When it quiets down, her face is pressed against his knee. She stays there with the bridge of her nose brushing his leg, out of breath and eyes closed as her senses slowly return. She’s calm and sated, drowsy and lethargic. Satisfied.

She blinks tiredly, finds it hard to focus and doesn’t particularly give a damn as she savors the harmony in her soul.

Altair is quiet. She feels his tongue scrape against her skin as he laps her wounds closed, before he lays her hand down in his lap. Then the back of his fingers gently strokes her throat from her jaw down to the pulse point at the crook of her neck.  

A tremble runs through her as goosebumps form all the way down her side and her heart flutters anew. Her skin is over-sensitized. Her mind whirls with the thought of letting him bite her there and what that would feel like, just as he repeats the gentle caress. It sparks at the back of her mind, whiting out her senses with satisfaction, and when he does it again, she knows one day soon; she’ll beg him to. And that until she does, it will be on her mind every time he feeds. 


	10. Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uncertainty eats at Lil's self-conscience until regret is all she feels. Destruction follows.

# Regret

The bright morning sun filters through the panes of glass and puts the night in a clear and bright exposure.

What felt immensely good and fragilely right in the velvety darkness alone with Altair, feels more and more awkward in the stark morning light. He might not have fucked her, but she feels just as bared and exposed as if he had. Now it startles her that she gave up all control. What does it mean? Is she giving up? Is there so little fight in her?

The gut-wrenching feeling of having made a huge mistake only grows after Altair leaves her under Ezio’s supervision in the kitchen. As if her mind clears with time away from him, she sees the night in other perspectives and her unease festers.

Why did she give in to him last night? She has heard of hostages who sympathizes with their captors, even fall in love with them. Is that what’s happening to her? Maybe that’s why she seeks Altair’s comfort, because the alternative; to defy him or run away means almost certain death?

Would she ever have fallen for a vampire if she weren’t in this predicament? Her mind continues to churn, but Lil finds no answer.

She sits on a barstool by the kitchen island, trying to get some breakfast down, but she’s not that hungry. A bowl of cereals rests in her hand, the milk slowly turning lukewarm. Slowly, she draws swirls through the increasingly less appetizing content before lifting a spoonful to her mouth. It tastes like cardboard but she cannot stand the thought of anything flavored or sweet either.

Altair has called another meeting with the vampires who are still at the mansion in the office, all except for Ezio who volunteered to stay in the kitchen “con le bella donne”. Altair did’t say anything about the meeting, but Lil suspects that once again, she’s the topic.

Is he telling them about last night? Letting them know what happened? Is he bragging about it?

Regret eats away her confidence. She can’t be in her right mind when she lets someone do a thing like that to her. Someone she hardly knows and only met a few days ago. Someone who keeps her captive. The more she thinks about it, the worse she feels, and soon she loses her appetite completely. The spoon clatter against the bowl as she drops it and across the kitchen island, Ezio turns his head.

“You not hungry, Lil?” he says. His eyes follows her as he leans casually against the kitchen counter.

Lil mutely shakes her head.

“You eat like a little bird. Isn’t anything to our taste?”

“I’m just not that hungry,” Lil says and notices unnatural silence in the room. Emma, Farah and Molly are there too, making breakfast on the other side of the room, but they have all stopped to listen and a few gazes crosses between them. Lil’s stomach chooses just that time to complain loudly at the lack of nutrients. Ezio’s brow creases in concern as he turns fully to regard her.

“Bella-“ he starts, but doesn’t get to continue, as Emma interrupts.

“She’s just picky, Ezio. That’s not something you should indulge or encourage,” she says sweetly and sneaks her arms around Ezio’s neck.

He chuckles lowly and wraps his arms around her; turns his head and regards her under hooded lids.

“Non, Caro,” he says and his voice has turned low and suggestive. “You’d rather I spoil you.”

His hands slide down her narrow back and over her tight jeans, and then he pinches her behind. Emma lets out a startled yelp and giggles lightly. Lil mentally rolls her eyes.

_Pathetic._

She ignores them and gets to her feet, goes to the sink and pours the rest of her breakfast down the drain. Then she rinses out the bowl, before turning around and looking for the dishwasher. After pulling open a couple of cabinets in fruitless search, she relents, deciding to rather ask then continue looking.

“Excuse me,” she says and the others all look at her. “Where’s the dishwasher?”

Just then, a phone rings and Ezio reaches for his pockets as he releases Emma, then pulls it out and flicks it open.

“Yes,” he says, and in the silence of the kitchen, everyone identifies the voice in the other end as Desmond starts talking. Lil’s eyes flick his way and her hearing hones in to catch any information she can.

“Were on site-,“ desomnds voice says as Ezio throws notices her gaze and decides to break the conversation.

“Hold on a sec, Desmond,” he says and then he walks into the hallway disrupting her chance to know what’s happening. Lil stares at the empty doorway, her bowl and the other girls forgotten as she deliberates going after him. Desmond and Jacob left to “take care” of her perpetrators, but Lil needs to know what that entails. She can hear Ezio’s short replies, but not what Desmond at the other end is telling him. She has just decided to sneak closer when Emma is suddenly in her way.

“It’s in the kitchen island.”

“Sorry, I just-” Lil is trying to catch what Ezio is saying. Emma huffs animatedly.

“In the island, you slob,” she says and there’s a spark of malice in her voice. “You do know how to use one don’t you? If not, it’s high time you learned. You can’t depend on Farah to wait on you hand and foot forever.”

The tone of her voice shifts Lil’s focus. She is at a loss to why Emma is affronted and tries to retrace what just happened.

“What?” she says as she meets Emma’s gaze.

“She’s dim-witted too, I should have known,” Emma says and her smile is pure venom.

“ _Emma_ …” Molly pleas with a wavering voice across the room. She looks clearly nervous when Lil flicks her a curious gaze. Why does Molly sound scared? What is Emma up to?

Emma disregards Molly as she stalks toward Lil on impossibly high heels with a sharp clink on the tile floor. She looks down her nose at Lil as if there’s something repulsive wrung around her neck and Lil’s temper sparks. She knows her type only too well, the stuck up beauty-queen. The girl who sees everyone else as inferior. The type who grinds any opposition or competition beneath her heels. Lil has never heeded the reign of the pretty girls, nor submitted to their rule and she is not about to start now.

“Just what is your problem, Emma?” she growls lowly.

“Emma!” Farah hisses sharply and gives Emma a meaningful look before her eyes flicks to the hallway and back. Emma continues to ignore the two others and now she’s practically in Lil’s face.

“My problem?” she says and tilts her head. “What’s my problem? Let’s see, hmm… could it be the way you wormed your way in here, pretended to be all vulnerable and weak? Or is it the way you have this whole house turned on end, just for your convenience? Not that you care, of course, oh, no. Or is it the way you’re constantly occupying our boyfriends?”

Lil watches her with rising contempt and disdain. Emma is used to be the center of attention, and now she’s not anymore, she is jealous. Lil has no sympathy for that nuisance.

“Get over yourself,” she says and is about to turn away, when Emma grabs her arm and holds her back.

“Nobody even want’s you here, you little leech!” she spits and Lil’s short fuse ignites. Gritting her teeth, she straightens her back and balls her fists. She senses the unease from the other two girls, but she couldn’t care less. She’s had enough of stuck up, fancy ass girls who have it out for her. The retort starts as a growl, but as she continues her voice raises until she is yelling at Emma.

“Well, I don’t particularly want to stay either so why don’t YOU get me THE HELL OUT OF HERE?!” 

She feels the anger flare inside, before her arms are grabbed in a tight hold from behind. Then someone marches her from the room and into the hallway, where she is shoved away.

Lil stumbles and nearly falls to her knees as she is released, and when she turns around, Connor is glaring at her from the doorway.

“Ezio!” he shouts. Then suddenly Altair is there, his gaze assessing and stern as he steps to her side. Ezio flicks the phone shut and stares at the commotion in disbelief.

“I was only gone for one minute,-“ he starts before Connor breaks him off.

“You were supposed to stay with them,” he growls, bristling with anger as he flicks a hand towards the kitchen. Behind him, Farah wraps her arm around Molly and then Emma brushes past Connor and hurries towards Ezio, teary-eyed and fretting.

“I-I don’t know what happened. I just told her where to put the dishes and the next thing I know she’s yelling at me. It was so scary…”she sobs. Ezio wraps his arm around her shoulder, tucks her shaking form securely against his side.

Lil watches them with apprehension, just waiting to see the anger turn against herself, but before it does, Altair’s hand lays heavily on her shoulder and nudges her to move. She’s relieved to leave, but as Altair takes her away, her eyes crosses gaze with Molly’s. The girl’s face pales and her eyes shines with naked terror, before Malik and Farah steps in the way. Confused Lil is nudged along towards the office, but then Connor barks after Altair.

“I thought you said you said she’d settled down.” Altair’s steps freezes and then he turns his head, facing Connor in a silent glare. That doesen’t discourage Connor the slightest. “Deal with it,” he growls before his eyes flick to her and then back to Altair. “…or I will,” he finishes. Then he turns away and disappears into the kitchen.


	11. Distrust and ruin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Searching for answers, Lil finds proof that her biggest fear is true. Desperation and anger finds her a way out.

“That was incredibly stupid!”

Altair is furious and though he is trying to contain himself, it makes her gut churn so that it’s impossible to face him.  She tries to steel her mind, tries to tell herself she doesn’t care if he’s angry with her, that she’s happy he is cross, that this is what she wants. To annoy and disappoint him until he’s fed up and eventually gives up on her, then maybe he will let her go. However, no matter how hard she tries, her heart is divided.  

Perched on the window seat she follows him out of the corner of her eye as he paces irately in front of her. Behind him, Malik enters quietly and closes the door behind him before taking a seat leaning against the desk, regarding the two of them with an unintelligible expression.

“Just what on earth were you thinking, picking a fight with Emma?” Altair asks and the fire inside Lil flares with indignation. He will not put that incident down at her door.

“She’s the one who started it!” Lil spits and stares at him defensively.

“I don’t CARE!” Altair growls back and it’s enough to cool the anger and fill her heart with dread as his eyes glowers at her. Unconsciously, her hands clenches in her lap. His gaze flicks there before he scrunches his eyes shut, breathing out a curt sigh.

“Look,” he says in a forced calm. “We know how she is, Lil. Ezio has always preferred his lovers hotheaded and a tad jealous, and Emma is no exception. Still, I expect better of you.”

“You want me to just let her walk all over me,” Lil mumbles broody and looks away. Altair fixes her in a piercing gaze.

“I expect you to walk away and avoid getting into a confrontation with her!” he says pointedly and the fire inside her sparks again. She meets his gaze and words burn on her tongue until she cannot hold them back.

“I’m not a pushover!” she says.

Altair’s eyes spark with a dangerous light as his features harden, and again she balks.

“You _will_ heed my word in this!” he growls and his voice has acquired a low and dangerous note.

“Altair…“ Malik’s even voice breaks Altair’s unrelenting attention. His voice is level and soothing as he continues in the foreign tongue Lil doesn't understand. His voice is smooth and low, however, Altair’s bristling and taut reaction keeps Lil on edge, her senses reeling and her ears sharpened and end and suddenly she picks up parts of the conversation.

 **“She needs to know the risk-,** ”

**“No!”**

It takes her a second to comprehend that that they are still conversing in that foreign tongue, but now she understands. Hastily, she retracts her startled gaze. In their heated exchange the vampires doesn't notice her reaction.

 **“That is the absolute _last_ resort,” **Altair continues. Malik frowns displeased before he looks away in thought. He draws a hand through his hair and then he seems to come to a decision. His jaw clenches before he meets Altair’s gaze.

 **“There will come a time when there’s no other option,”** he says.

 **“We’re not there yet,”** Altair replies. **“I will _not_ put her under further strain unless there is no other way, Malik.”**

Silence passes between them as they stare at each other. Lil flicks them a gaze, trepidation growing in her gut as she wonders what they are withholding. She hopes the conversation will continue and shed some light to why she’s really here or what their true intentions are, but they do not continue. Instead, Malik relents.

“Very well,” he sighs and looks away. “Leave us then, Altair, and let her get back to studying. “

Altair flicks her a last gaze, one she snubs with her face turned the other way. Only when he walks away does she raise her gaze.

There is frustration written in his posture. Lil watches his retreating back until the door closes and he is gone. Then she notices Malik’s gaze resting on her. 

“You still don’t get it do you?” he says quietly as she meets his gaze. “You still don’t understand that you need him.” Her momentary surprise turns a distrustful silence as she glowers back at him defensively. What she needs is freedom, to get the hell out of this house before she falls further into Altair’s claws. Malik regards her defiance with growing irritation and then huffs as he gets to his feet.

“Get to work,” he says as he walks around the desk to take a seat.

 

Lil is sick of the book, sick of being cooped up in this house, sick of being kept in the dark about her future and their intentions. She picks the book up, flips to the marked section and stares at the page. It’s back to old lore again, and though the story was a fetching one yesterday, she finds no interest in it. The worthwhile pieces of information are few and far between, and what she wants to know is not in the current section.

She steals a glance at Malik, making sure he is occupied with his own work, before quietly turning a few pages in search for some real insight. Malik is immersed in his laptop, knotting away at a irate pace and Lil continues undetected. She skims through a few paragraphs, then flips a couple of pages forward and repeats the drill, speeding through the text until the content changes focus.

_‘The mature nymphs regenerates and draws strength from intimate relations, and coitus is a vital part of their nature.’_

Though the words makes her gut churn foreboding, Lil continues. She feels as if the book might finally shed some light to why she’s here.

 

‘A _young nymph approaching the metamorphosis of maturity will chose a male she finds suited, usually an experienced and strong specimen to guide her through the change. He is bestowed the task of teaching her the arts and pleasures of the flesh_. _The task is not an easy one, but regarded as a great honor.’_

Her face heats up, equal parts embarrassment and anger fueling the color of her cheeks as the book describes how it is the mentor’s first priority to keep the subject satisfied in the most intimate way.

 

_‘Certain fruits, such as figs and particular nuts will aid him in his quest as they contain aphrodisiae-‘_

 

Lil feels deceived and betrayed, recognizing the elements of last night’s supper. “ _That’s why I gave in_ ,” she muses and a tremor of anger fills her soul.

_‘Contrary to the human female, coitus offers no unintended consequences as the female Nymph has the ability to decide whether to conceive or not._

_Once she has made it through the change, she is free to choose another partner, but often the connection with the guide forms a strong bond and she will stay with him._

_The few nymphs who chooses to move on are conquests worth their weight in gold as the_ _willing nymph is an exquisite claim, a divine pleasure relished by the lucky few who wins her favor.’_

 

Lil slams the book shut with deep thump. She has read more than enough. Behind the desk, Malik stills as his focus settles on her, but Lil doesn’t heed him.

So that’s Altair’s plan. Keep her locked up until she gives in and “chooses” him. The boiling anger surges through her veins and fills her with a thrumming energy.

She has to get out of here. No matter what happens, no matter the consequence, she _has_ to go.

“Lil?” Malik watches her very closely as he addresses her. He seems to sense her altered state of mind as he slowly gets to his feet.

“What have you been reading, Child?” he says.

Lil meets his gaze unwavering and angry. Gets to her feet and stands with her fists clenched at her sides.

“The truth,” she says lowly, before stepping away from the window-seat. Malik’s gaze flicks from her to the book lying on the window-seat, then back to her. His brow knits into a stern frown and then he walks briskly round the desk. Brushing past her, he picks up the book and starts flipping through the pages. Lil takes a quiet step towards the desk and the exit, not letting Malik out of her sight as she carefully backtracks away from him.

Malik suddenly stops the page flipping and lets his finger run along the lines as he plows through the text.  Her eyes are locked on him as he reads and she doesn’t even realize she’s at the desk until her thigh bumps painfully into the corner of it. Her eyes flash there and she notices the top drawer left askew and a shining item resting just inside. It's an old dagger, the handle smoothe and polished by use and the narrow blade dull with age. She looks hastily back at Malik and finds that his finger has stilled at the bottom of the page. He lifts his head and meets her gaze.

“Child-,“ he says.

Lil grits her teeth and lets her eyes blaze with the anger she feels.

“Let me go!”

It’s not a request, and Malik seems to recognize the fact. His eyes sparks, and then he puts the book down carefully and takes a step forward. Lil’s hand shoots into the drawer, gripping the knife tightly in her hand and holds it out before her.

“Now!” she says. Malik stops. Stays infinitely quiet and still as he watches her like a hawk, his dark eyes igniting with a menacing light.

In her anger, it doesn’t faze her. She takes a step back, and then another until she reaches the door. She fiddles a little with the knob, before she gets the door open and when she retreats into the hall Malik follows. His eyes are locked on her the whole time, like a predator following prey as she retreats step by step. Careful not to stumble, she keeps a keen eye trained on her keeper and the blade at the ready before her.

Suddenly Malik raises his voice.

“Ezio!”

The call rings through the hall without drawing a flicker of his attention. Startled, Lil steps a few hurried paces back as she looks around the room. Then the door to the living-room opens and Ezio comes into the hallway. He flicks a puzzled look at Malik before noticing Lil. Then his brow furrows disbelievingly.

“Is that a _paper-_ knife?” he says, and there’s a spark of humor in his eyes. Her anger flares in indignation, but his blatant disregard for her weapon is somewhat discouraging. Malik ignores him. His eyes never wavers as he continues to follow Lil’s retreating steps.

“Get Altair,” he says to Ezio. Ezio looks back at Malik and his demeanor shifts. Lil sees him nodding gravely at Malik and then, a split second later, he is gone.

Her eyes widens in surprise and the corner of Malik’s mouth lifts in a cynical grin.

“You thought that was a myth too?” he says.

The hairs on her neck stands on end as sharp claws of fear pierces her heart. Insentient, she turns around and bolts for the front door. She hears Malik’s steady step following as she turns the key and wrenches the door open. Her heart hammers in her chest, all her senses trained on the vampire following and the one she know is coming.

She runs as fast as her feet can carry her across the narrow patio and down the steps and suddenly she is outside in the open air, but something is ot right. The air hums and there’s a sort of pressure vibrating against her skin. Despite the terror trailing behind, her focus shifts.

A cacophony of impressions greets her.

Her senses are flooded with details of sight and sound and sense; from the minute sounds of a small rodent scuttling through the undergrowth, the branches creaking in the wind, the intense colors surrounding her in a myriad of greens and browns, the droplets trailing down the trunk of a tree, the birds chirruping in the trees. The breeze brings the smell of wet earth and rotting leaves, of the last dying flowers and the ripe apples in the garden. Somewhere in the distance, she senses the thundering and powerful force of a river.

Her feet stills without her awareness as she struggles to get a grip on herself. The world is churning, the impressions keeps on coming, unbidden, unrelenting uncontrollable. She cannot even see straight. Everywhere she focuses, there are details her senses unearths and hollows out.

Urgency rises through the chaos of sensations. She knows she has to get away. She stumbles on; staggers as her feet meets the earth sooner than expected, catches herself just before she falls. She scrunches her eyes shut and tries to focus, tries to stop the churning in her mind, but it doesn’t stop. The rush of rapidly changing sensory impressions presses on and on until she thinks she will go mad.

Then she senses Altair; the powerful darkness that surrounds him is unmistakable. She draws to a halt and finds him blocking the path, holds out the knife in defense and blinks, desperate to clear her sight.

Altair regards the knife in her hand and his mouth stretches into a sneer, revealing his long, sharp fangs.

“Malik?” he says lowly and behind her, Malik answers. Lil whirls around, her gaze shifting from one to the other as she tries to keep the blade between her and them. Both of them have their eyes trained on her, and the intensity of it blends into the storm that surrounds her.

 **“You still think it was the right decision not to tell her?”** Malik asks. Altair doesn’t even spare him a glance as he disregards the question.

 **“What happened?”** he asks.

 **“I believe she found the section describing the tutoring,”** Malik says.

**“And the knife?”**

Lil grips the blade a little tighter. Her palms are sweaty and the highly polished handle is slick in her grip. It’s hard to concentrate, her mind is swimming with the constant oncoming surge of impressions. Keeping focus demands all her will and energy. Her muscles starts to tremble as she holds the knife aloft and she’s struggling to stand straight. 

**“The knife is blunt as a spoon. It seems to give her a sense of security, though.”**

**“So you let her keep it.”**

**“Mm,”** Malik hums.

The two of them are talking as if the knife is a pacifier. Lil takes a step away, feeling as if her advantage is slipping.

“Let me go!” she demands, trying to keep the desperation she feels out of her voice. Altair regards her silently, his gaze shifting from her shaking hand to her swaying step and back to her face.

“You are in no state-“ he starts.

“LET ME GO!” she shouts at the top of her lungs.

It’s a last desperate stand, and without thinking, her grip on the knife shifts as she points it to the vein in her own neck. She’s not ready to die, not sure she’s able to carry through the threat, but there’s no other way out.

Anger flares like flames through Altair’s eyes and the sound he expels is nothing short of a growl. Threatening and low it rumbles through this chest, raising the hairs on her neck. She takes another stumbling step back, gritting her teeth against the tears that are threatening to rise in her eyes. Then suddenly the world tilts violently and she slams into the ground. Winded, she recognizes the firm weight that pins her down and the painfully tight grip around her wrist.

Her eyes are scrunched shut, her heart racing as claws of panic sinks into her soul. Desperately she keens her fear, her hurt and her anger, as she knows she has once again lost. She fears what the repercussion for her defiance will be, but when Altair speaks, his voice is soft and soothing.

“Let it go, Lil,” he says. “I will not harm you, little one. Just let it go.” The words slither between her defenses and tugs at her will to give in. Anger would have made it easy to resist and keep on fighting, but not this treacherously caring tone. The struggle to maintain distance, to close her heart turns excruciatingly painful. A sob wrecks her throat as she futilely struggels against his hold and tries to break free, but then she feels his breath against her skin.

“Sssh,” he says. “Easy. You are all right, child. No one is going to hurt you.”

Tears well up in her eyes as his voice continues to coo soothingly.

“Sssh, little one. Shhh.”

Little by little the struggle in her dies. It’s pointless. The knife is of no consequence any more, and she’s not going anywhere. Hopelessness steals the rest of her energy and the grip on the knife falters. Altair lets go her hand to flick it away, and then his weight lifts.

Lil curs into a ball, hides her face in her hands and lets the tears fall unrestrained.


	12. Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fear of the unknown is worse than actually knowing. Lil confronts the vampires and gains some insght and a promise of information.

# Truths

He doesn’t leave her. Instead, he pulls her into his arms as if she weighs noting, gets to his feet and carries her back inside the house. Malik follows as Altair carries her up the stairs, down the corridor and into his room. There he sets her down on the bed and then he leaves her alone. She registers a muttered conversation between the vampires, but their voices are too low and she doesn’t particularly care at the moment.

Curled on her side, her body shakes in quiet sobs of despair at the loss of freedom and independence, at not being allowed to make her own decisions and at her destitute situation. She knows, even if she got out of the house undetected, she would not make it far. To be honest, the thought of going back outside is downright frightening.

The vampires let her grieve. They wait patiently, most of the time in silence.

When her body finally stills, her breath drawn regularly and lethargic as she stares into empty air, she feels the bed dip behind her back and then a hand settles on her upper arm, but it takes some time before he says anything. Eventually he speaks.

“You need to stay, Lil,” he says quietly. “I know it’s not easy, but you need to let us guide you through this and teach you to handle these powers. You need to trust us.”

Lil doesn’t reply at first. She’s numb and tired, fed up with this charade and pretending that it’s all going to be fine.

“How can I?” she says. She crawls up and faces them. “I know _nothing_ about you. I don’t even know why I’m here!”

“You need our help,” Malik says.

“No, I mean why? Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me? I- I have nothing… There is nothing I can…”

“We already told you. You are special little one-“ Altair frowns and anger sparks in her soul.

“Yes,” she spits, “a _conquest_ worth her weight in gold!”

Malik hums in recognition and flicks a gaze at Altair. Altair disregards him as his eyes acquires a tone of regret and sorrow.

“Little one,” he says. “Is it so hard to believe anyone might find worth beyond your naked body?”

Lil evades his gaze, looks down at her empty hands and clenches her teeth as her eyes once again start so burn in anger and despair. His words are treacherously alluring. Her heart aches to believe him, but she can’t afford that.

Altair picks her hand up, holds it between his larger ones.

“The truth is, Child, there are few none-humans left in this world. We have to stick together and take care of our own or we will soon face extinction. We would never leave you to fend for yourself.”

She lifts her head and looks at him, uncertain and wary, and Malik offers further assurance.

“For a little while you need sanctity, away from civilization and masses of people,” he says. “When you’ve learned to control these powers you will not be restrained further. I swear, you won’t.”

She meets his onyx eyes, so dark he is hard to read. Is he being honest?

“But until I do, you bestow this aid, weather I want it or not,” she says dejectedly.

Altair reveals no emotions as he replies.

“Would you have rather we left you alone?” he says. “To wake up one morning with these senses flooding your system, and with no explanation and no one to help?”

Lil’s expression falls as she flicks her gaze away.

“And so you expect me to bare my most intimate sides and let you… do these things to me,” she says. She cannot bare to look at any of them, but she’s painfully aware of Altair’s gaze out of the corner of her eye.

His eyes glint at her in the low light. She has a feeling he is weighing his words carefully before he speaks and behind him Malik’s dark voice rumbles. 

“ **Trust is a child of truth, Altair. She will never learn to trust if she doesn’t see the whole picture.”** Lil can practically hear the gears turn in Altair’s mind as he regards her. 

“ **You are right, Malik,** ” he says. “ **But there is something she needs to understand first.** ”

“Come,” he says and gets to his feet. Malik looks at him, confused, and Lil’s expression easily mirrors Malik’s.

“Altair-?” he says, but Altair just takes a hold of Lil’s hand and drags her with him as he exits the room and walks down the hall, down the stairs and through the corridor, past the office and down another flight of stairs into the basement. Malik seems to realize where they are going as his voice changes note into annoyance.

“ **Altair, do you really** -“

“Quiet or she’ll hear,” Altair whispers. Lil looks at him and wonders what he means. Malik just sighs exasperated and follows.

They come to halt outside a plain white door. It opens soundlessly as Altair turns the handle and reveals a bare and unlit room. Lil is about to protest when Malik brushes past and walks inside, then Altair ushers her after as he follows and then the door closes with a mute thump. The room goes pitch-black for a second before Malik opens a door at the other end and a muted stream of light breaks the darkness. Malik enters the narrow room and Lil follows with Altair trailing close behind. There is nothing in there save for a couple of chairs, set before a large window where light filters in from the adjoining room.

Lil looks the room over as she enters, puzzled and wary at why they brought her here, and then she flicks a gaze through the window.

The room next door is brightly lit and mostly bare save for a table and a couple of chairs. On the table lies Emma, partially clothed, with Ezio-. Instantly Lil covers her eyes and turns on her heel, ready to leave the room. Altair catches her before she can go anywhere. A soft laughter rumbles through his chest.

“Not so fast, little one. There’s a lesson to be learned,” he says. He pulls her close to him, her back to his chest and his hands resting on her shoulders as he guides her to stand in front of the window. All the while Lil covers her eyes and scrunches her eyes shut.

“Open your eyes, Lil,” he bids.

Lil shakes her head.

“Go on, it’s all right. They cannot see us.”

“But… they…”

Altair answers before she is able to form her apprehension into coherent sentences.

“Why do you think they are here?” he says and she can hear the slight amusement in his voice.

Lil stays silent, unsure what to say. Why would they chose this location? Is it… do they _want_ to…?

Malik is leaning against the wall beside the window. Lil warily lifts her gaze and stares at him perplexed, and Malik hums.

“Mhm,” he says unconcerned. “Emma enjoys knowing there could be someone watching.”

Altair looks down at her across her shoulder and gives her a reassuring smile.

“Take a look,” he says.

Apprehensive and bashful, Lil raises her gaze. Emma is sprawled on the table, top pushed up just below her breasts, revealing her slender waist and smooth skin. Her trousers and panties lies discarded on the floor. Ezio has been planting kisses at the top of her thigs and now he spreads her legs before he moves lower. His hand is splayed across her stomach, pressing her down and keeping her from moving. A bright red flush spreads across Emma’s cheeks, and Lil can feel he face is burning too as Emma cranes her neck and lets out a mute moan.

Lil flicks her gaze away and ignores her racing heart.

Malik is quietly regarding her, but when she notices his gaze, he looks to Altair.

“ **What on earth are you doing Altair?** ” he says. His incredulity is somehow reassuring. As usual, Altair disregards his question as he lets go her arms and walks around to face her.

“What do you see?” he says. Lil’s face turns hot as a furnace, and Malik sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Altair regards her austerely, the flicker of amusement from before gone as if it was never there.

Lil cannot find her tongue. When she doesn’t answer, he flicks a hand towards the window.

“Look again,” he says.

Ezio is buried deep between Emma’s thigs, licking long and placid strokes. Emmas muscles are quivering with each lap and kiss, her back arching off the table and though there is no sound escaping the room, it’s evident she isn’t silent.

“Do you think she feels any pain?” Altair asks. Lil swallows and avoids looking at the scene on the other side of the window as shakes her head mutely. Even if she found her voice, she wouldn’t trust it right now.

“Do you think she cares about anything but how he makes her feel?” Lil shakes her head and steals another bashfully curious glance at the two lovers, still feeling as if what they’re doing is illicit, if not illegal. The sight still sparks a flicker of excitement as she notices Emma’s expression and for one delirious second she wonders what it feels like, to have a warm tongue caress such a senstive spot. Emma is completely lost to the world as Ezio continues the languid ministrations.

“What about Ezio?”

Lil concentrates on the vampire as he lifts his gaze, studies the woman before him and slowly slides two fingers inside her quivering body. The look in his eyes is revenant and warm. Then his smile turns devious as his face lowers again. He soon has Emma quivering in expectation his face hovering above her most intimate parts deliviering teasing licks and kisses before his tongue makes real contact with the sensitive skin.

Lil realizes she is staring and flicks her gaze away.

“Do you think Ezio cares for her?” Altair asks. Lil gives him a curt nod as she averts her gaze. There’s no doubt in her mind Ezio cares for this woman.

“Do you think they both enjoy it?” Altair asks and Lil chances a vocal answer, able to focus now the initial shock as worn off.

“Yes” she says dismissively.

“Do you think they should be ashamed?”

Lil flicks another gaze through the window at the scene, and knows where he’s aiming. She shakes her head quietly.

“Then why should you?” Altair says and Lil turns her gaze away.

“Because I do not love you,” she says and wraps her arms around herself, then turns her back at the window.

“Little one,” Altair says, “this is not love. Ezio brought Emma here two weeks ago. Within a month, the two of them will go their separate ways, and Ezio will find another girl to satisfy. What you see is two people allowing themselves to give and receive without reserve. This,” he says and gestures towards the scene, “this is desire and passion and trust.”

He falls silent. Lil isn’t sure what to say or what to think. Not sure how to react, so she tucks her arms a little firmer around herself and stays dismissively silent. Altair looks at Malik and gives him a small, curt nod and Malik flips a switch that turns the glass opaque. Then Malik’s voice breaks the silence as he addresses Altair.

“ **After all these years, you still manage to surprise me, Novice.** ” There’s a an affectionate sort of enmity in Malik’s remark. A ghost of a sardonic smile flitters across Altair’s face, before their attention turns back to Lil.

“Let’s find you something to eat, Lil,” he says. “And then, afterwards, we have something to tell you.”


	13. Cursed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Which is worse? Living in ignorance or knowing what haunts you is your worst fear?

# Cursed

Lil stares suspiciously at the drink in her hand, sorely tempted by the mouth-watering smell, but still not willing to give it a taste or reveal how hungry it makes her feel. She lifts her gaze to the man who has just handed her the glass and regards him coolly. A ghost of a smile flitters through his golden eyes.

“It’s just a smoothie,” he says. “Nothing illusive or deceitful. I promise.”

He meets her gaze openly and straightforward. Lil turns her back at the both of them, feigning interest in the forest outside the window. Raising the glass, she relishes in the sharp freshness of the fruity drink as she swallows it down in short swallows.  

Altair joins Malik by the desk where Malik has been quietly waiting, his scrutiny never breaking vigilance while Altair was away.

“ **She grows itchy every time you leave.** ”

The quiet comment nearly makes her twitch, but Lil stops herself. Being able to listen in on them without their knowledge is an advantage she’s not willingly giving away upon an annoying comment. Altair just makes a humming sound in reply and waits for her to finish. Lil raises the glass and takes another swallow of the drink.

She knows there’s some sort of revelation in store for her and the way they’ve acted; she knows she’s not going to like it. The only way to stall it is savoring the drink for as long as she can, but all too soon the glass is empty and Altair takes it away.

Then he draws up a chair and motions for her to sit down on the window-seat. Lil slumps down, picks up a pillow and hugs it tightly in her lap. Malik draws up another chair and sits down beside Altair. Then the two of them crosses a guarded gaze, as if steeling themselves.  When their eyes settles on her, unease makes her gut churn.  

Altair is the first to speak, his amber orbs strangely sharp and alert under firm set brows.

“What we are about to say will upset you,” he says. “Just remember that we are here to help you through this.”

He looks at her until she reluctantly gives him a nod of confirmation.

Then Malik draws her attention.

“What do you know about the origin of the word nightmare, Child?” he asks.

Lil looks blankly back at him, and then flicks an uncertain gaze at Altair. He’s quietly regarding her too and there’s nothing in his expression that gives away his thoughts. Lil looks back at Malik and searches her memory for anything.

“Isn’t it just… a bad dream?” she says waveringly.

“The origin of the word lies in Norse superstition where you find a figure called the Mara,” Malik says slowly. “Lore entails she is an unsatisfied old spinster or a scorned young woman turned into a daemon by lust, deceit and jealousy. In a quest for revenge, she haunts those who have wronged her or those who evokes her envy. She is thought to straddle her sleeping victim’s chest, obstructing their breathing and filling their dreams with fright and despair. The origin of the word nightmare refers to this daemon.”

Malik pauses as he regards her quietly and assessing. Lil looks at them uneasy.

“Why you are telling me this,” she says, dreading the reply. Malik crosses gaze with Altair before he continues.

“Like all lore, there are truths and faults to this tale,” he says. “The Mara is not human, she is a nymph. This particular lore is man’s collective recollection of interaction with a nymph that goes through the change without the protection of her own kind.”

Unease clenches her gut as Malik falls silent. Altair gently picks up her hand and holds it between his two larger ones.

“When a nymph goes through the change, she needs and will seek comfort, care and satisfaction in her surroundings, but among humans, that is not what she will find.” His thumb strokes the back of her hand soothingly as he continues.

“What you don’t know, little one, is that you are emitting pheromones. Humans aren’t able to consciously perceive them, but they sense them, nonetheless. As you have experienced, women perceive you as competition and a threat, while the men-,”    

Altair breaks off mid-sentence, and Malik continues.

“Men are such weak souls,” he says tersely. “These pheromones speaks directly to man’s primal instincts. They are driven mad with desire and some show little restraint to their urges. There are always men who will take advantage of a nymph in this state and seek to fulfill their own desires.” He crosses an irate gaze with Altair before he continues.

“In her need, the young nymph will not be able to resist the attention offered. Then, when her power surfaces and she understands that there is no care in her company, and that the satisfaction is really abuse, that power seeks revenge and fulfilment.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“The Mara is the curse of your kind, what happens when you do not learn to control your powers, or when loneliness, insecurity and torment turns into anger,” Malik says. “Lore says the Mara haunts her perpetrators dreams… That is a grave understatement, or at best a vague explanation from someone who survived the encounter.”

Lil swallows, trying to fight down the bile rising in her throat as Malik continues.

“The Mara paralyses her victim. Then she takes her pleasure from their bodies, and while she does… she drains their life-force.”

Lil goes numb, save for the queasy churning of her gut. Then the sickening fright triggers a defensive ire. This cannot be true. They are manipulating her. Disbelievingly she shakes her head.

“No,” she says. “No-“ But Altair cuts her short.

“Yes, Lil;” he says quietly. “You know it’s true. You experienced a spell of it yesterday. When you give in to despair and anger, your sentient being seizes to exist, replaced by a predator, a power of nature seeking to settle grievances.”

She pulls her gaze away, remembers the feeling in a flash; the burning rage and the inhuman strength that surged through her. The world halts as ice pours into her veins. She feels as if she cannot breathe as if the walls are closing in on her.  Altair gives her hand a comforting squeeze, but Lil drags it from his hold, her whole body itching.

“That’s why you need to stay safe and protected right now.”

She doesn’t want to believe them; doesn’t want to accept the truth, but the rage that pounded through her veins when she tackled Altair sits at the forefront of her mind. Is this what lies in store for her if she doesn’t handle the change? Will she turn into a beast, a furious daemon seeking revenge? An the only way out; to avoid this curse of a life, to submit to their rules? To let Altair…

Lil scrunches her eyes shut.

“Little one-“ Altair reaches for her, but Lil just can’t take it.

“Don’t!” she sneers, bats his hand away and glares at him before she registers Malik’s rigid posture and the dark gleam in his eyes. He bares his teeth at her, long canines exposed in an unspoken threat. Strangely, that has a grounding effect and Lil controls herself.

“Just… just don’t,” she says quietly and shirks away as Altair’s hand twitches as if he’s about to reach out again. “I- I just need some space, some time to think…”

Truth is she doesn’t want to even reflect over any of it. Her body is rigid with unease and pent up frustration. 

“You need to calm down-“ Altair starts and Lil’s temper flares.

“What I _need_ is some space, some room to digest this _insanity_ and all that is happening to me. What I need is a good, long run, but I’m stuck here!” Her eyes are burning, and her voice grows thick with emotion. She angrily dries away the wetness that gathers in her eyes. She doesn’t want to cry any more. She has cried enough already. Lil grits her teeth in despair and turns her back at them, seeking solace where there is none in her own mind.

“You want to go for a run.”

Altair’s quiet words sounds mildly amused and incredible.

Lil bristles with anger and pulls the pillow tighter against herself. Then she feels his warm hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, little one. Let’s go for a run.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find the origins of words facinating and those connected with myths and lore in particular. There are a lot of them in my mother-tongue.The etymology of Nightmare is based in old lore as decribed. Even if my country was christened a thousend years ago, these stories have survived, passed on from parent to child in a vocal tradition during centuries when the written language was reserved the wealthy few.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thank you for liking my story, it truely makes my day.


	14. Taking stock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lil struggles as she tries to make out the lay of the land and coming to terms with her situation does not fall easy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter was quite short, I thought I'd give you another update today, a head of my intended scedual. Hope you enjoy :)

# Taking stock

Back in Altair’s room, Lil tries to find her running outfit. She pulls out her sneakers and puts them down on the floor while she rummages through her bag. She’s not even certain if she got everything packed the day she left and though there isn’t much in there, she has to go through most of it before she finds what she wants. While she does, Lil notices that most of the garments filling her bag are worn and unwashed. She’ll need to borrow a washer soon or be left with nothing but dirty clothes to wear.

Sighing inwardly, Lil sets that problem aside for later, then grabs the tights, sports-bra and tank-top, before zipping the bag shut and going into the bathroom to change.

It doesn’t take her long. She makes haste, trying to avoid thinking too much about anything, just gets her gear on and gathers her hair in a braid before exiting the bathroom.

When she returns, Altair is sitting on the edge of the bed, holding one of her sneakers and regarding the sole with a frown.

“I know;” Lil says and cringes. “They’re really dirty. I’ll clean them off before-,” Altair cuts her off as he raises his gaze.

“These are completely worn out,” he says. “You will ruin your knees if you keep using these.”

Lil knows he’s right, but he’s poking another sore spot, pointing out the state of her shoes. Her meagre funds haven’t allowed her to buy new ones for a while, but she can’t stop exercising either. 

"They are all I’ve got,” she mumbles and snatches the shoes from his hand. “Now, can we go?”

Altair gets to his feet.

“This way,” he says and goes to the door.

Again, he takes her down the hall to the massive main staircase. Downstairs they pass the office to find the narrow stair to the basement where they just were, but this time he continues on, further down another long flight of stairs. They arrive at another corridor, and Altair opens the first door on the opposite side and holds it open for her.

It leads to another short passage with three other doors, one on each wall. Altair just motions ahead towards the opposite side of the small space. Lil pushes the handle and leans against the door to push it open. She expects some dingy basement gym, but what she sees blows her mind.

The gym is a massive room, three stories tall at least and the size of a basket-court. At one end, there are a set of weight-lifting machines, a large open area carpeted with gym-mats and racks containing a variety of equipment. However, what really catches her attention is the obstacle course that takes up most of the space. A network of ropes, ledges, swinging mechanisms and other hurdles she can barely identify litters the floor, hangs from the ceiling and crisscrosses the air. The room is bathed in natural light, the whole end wall made up by panes of glass from floor to ceiling, bringing in the view of the sloping landscape outside. 

Lil stares gob-smacked at the installations and wonders how anyone can make it through the course. The only way up there seems to be scaling the bare wall. There are no grips or handles salve for the minute groves between each brick.

At her side, Altair smirks as he watches her reaction. 

“Impressed?” he says and Lil can only numbly nod.

Altair takes her towards the back of the room, past the weightlifting-stuff where three treadmills sits side by side against the wall. Lil picks one, takes a look at the controls and recognizes the basic functions. She’s itching to go now and waists no more time, fishing the IPod from her pocket. As she puts one of the earpieces in, Altair catches her gaze.

“All set, then?” he asks. She nods her affirmation, then puts in the other earpiece and with a few flicks of her thumb music flows through the digital veins and into her ears.

It is liberating to finally be able to move, even if it’s just on a machine. Her feet pound rhythmically against the rubber surface while the music blocks out the surroundings. Soon she loses herself in the monotony of the repetitive motion, lays yard after yard behind while life flows through her veins. The gentle burn in her muscles replaces the built up tension, releases it and takes it away. Yards soon becomes a mile, two miles, three. She doesn’t really notice, lulled in the music and the steady beat of her heart.

After a while, something makes her back prickle and the sense draws her attention. Her mind focuses and on instinct, she lifts her gaze towards the mirrors lining the wall by the weight-racks. Altair is crouching down a few yards behind, looking at her. At first, she has the impression he is staring at her ass, but then she realizes his gaze is trailing lower, following her feet. Whatever caught his interest soon disappears as he gets back to his feet. His eyes crosses paths with her in the mirror before he turns away and flicks a mobile from his pocket. As he walks away, Lil ignores him.

She doesn’t really intend to mull things over, but after Altair’s interruption, her mind flitters to the conversation in the office. Although she doesn’t want to believe the story they presented, somewhere deep inside she knows it’s true. Again, she recalls the blinding rage that overpowered her when Altair informed Malik of her secret. Moreover, there’s another, darker and more terrifying memory haunting the back of her mind. One from the party, of the insentient hunger that overcame her, that tore her from her state of intoxication, that made her seek her own pleasure from someone who sought to rape her.

She feels sick as another gut-wrenching thought enters her mind. Was she unconsciously trying to drain the boy’s life-force that night? What if she had succeeded? Would she have killed him?

Lil ups the speed, pushes herself a little harder, runs a little faster until the tight grip on her gut eases. She understands now, that even though things were bad, they could have gone a lot worse and suddenly, Lil realizes she is relieved. Relieved that night didn’t end worse, but more importantly relieved that she doesn’t have to deal with living in the city, that the vampires took her away.

She flicks a searching gaze in the mirror.

Altair is slowly pacing the edge of the room, regarding the hurdles above as he waits for her; watches over her. He seems to sense her scrutiny and his golden eyes finds her own across the room. His eyes instantly acquires that sharp, assessing light that seems to follow her whenever she seeks him out and Lil flicks her gaze away, facing forward once more.  

Malik is right. She does grow itchy when he is gone, but that doesn’t mean she needs him, does it? Lil sighs. Considers the thought of going outside again alone, and the hairs on her neck stand on end. She groans.

Admitting to herself that she needs him takes more than a mile as she tries to disregard it, tries to deny it to herself, but eventually the mirage she’s trying to uphold just caves.

_Crap!_

Just the thought of the way he smells, of the warm and slightly spicy masculine aroma fills her with quiet comfort. He might make her angry most of the time, but Lil finally recognizes she needs his guidance. Right now, she’s not even able to literarily stand on her own two feet outside. She needs help to handle these “improved” senses, to gain a grip on herself again. Moreover, she needs a place to stay. Even if she was allowed to leave, she has nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Without their aid, she’d be destitute and, from what she’s learned, in constant danger. 

Again, she groans, but less of indignation and more of despair this time. The sanctuary offered still resembles a golden cage, with the assigned guards, Malik’s strict tutoring and the constant surveillance.

To accept that does not sit well with her character.

But maybe that can change. Maybe if she accepted, the tight leash she’s on would slacken. Maybe there’s a way to make this just a little more sufferable.

She’s so caught up in her thoughts that she doesn’t realize Altair is there before the treadmill suddenly slows. When she lifts her gaze, Altair is pushing the button to slow the pace. Lil flicks out the earpieces and looks at him questioningly, wondering what he wants.

“That’s enough,” he says. “You’ve been on this thing for one and a half hour straight.”

Only then does she feel the burn in her lungs and the fatigue in her legs. Lil paces on as the speed slows down while Altair walks over to a fridge, set in the corner. He pulls out a bottle and wrings the top of before he hands it to her as she steps off the treadmill. Her legs are all but giving out underneath her as she walks to the matted area.

She lifts the bottle and drinks, greedily. It’s some sort of protein sports-drink, sickly sweet, but she knows it will refill her energy reserves and swallows it down without restraint. Then she goes through the stretching routine, ignoring Altair as she ponders how to front an argument to gain some sense of freedom.

It’s no use raising the question without Malik present. Altair will not grant her requests without a seconding from Malik, and she wonders whether to make Altair summon him or to wait until later. Just when she decides it’s in her interest to wait and think things through, the door opens and Malik enters.

Lil flicks a surprised look at Altair.

“When you’re done, we need to finish our conversation,” he says explanatory before moving to greet Malik.

She should have known they would not let the issue wait.

The two of them shares a quiet conversation while Lil finishes, her mind flitting between how to argue her case and trying to listen in on their conversation. To her frustration, they are too far away for her to catch more than a few phrases. Then they seem to think that she is done.

“ **Evie is on her way in** ,” Malik says as they walk over.

“ **I know** ,” Altair replies. “ **I spoke to her earlier**.”

Lil dries her face on her shirt and gingerly sits down on the matted floor as they walk over. The grand gym is slightly chilly now her skin is cooling down. Lil wraps her arms around herself as a shiver of frost runs down her spine.

“You are getting cold,” Altair says. Before she can protest, he shirks out of his hoodie and drapes it over her shoulders. The warmth of it thaws the goosebumps on her skin and Lil’s thankful. It’s actually quite nice. Malik watches her out of the corner of his eye as she tucks the large hoodie around herself.

“ **That’s efficient** ,” he comments.

“ **Mm, it is** ,” Altair replies. Slightly affronted Lil senses there’s something she doesn’t get. There’s no time to mull it over though, as the vampires both sits down, cross-legged and faces her. Then Malik clears his throat.

“I take it from your reaction, Lil, you realize the truth,” he says. Lil shrinks back from his penetrating scrutiny, lowers her eyes and looks away. Her mouth feels dry as she quietly nods her head. It’s one thing to recognize the truth, another to admit it to these two.

Malik seems to accept her first meagre sign of surrender. He nods, before crossing gaze with Altair and then his stern features relaxes a fraction. When he speaks, his voice seems less up-front.

“What are your thoughts, Child?” he says quietly.

Lil picks at a loose thread in her tights.

“I know I need your help,” she says, flicks a gaze at Altair then back at her own hands. “I’ll stay but…”

Lil draws a deep breath before she lifts her head and looks Malik straight in the eye.

“You say that this is my sanctuary, but right now it’s just a golden cage.”

There is a dark gleam within Malik’s dark orbs. Lil recognizes the shrewd mind at work and though it’s daunting to voice her demands there is no turning back. Determinedly, Lil stiffens her resolve.

“If I am to submit to your directions, I need at least a sense of freedom and I need to decide some things for myself.”

There’s not even a flicker in Malik’s expression that gives away his thoughts.

“What do you propose?” he says. Two sets of eyes follows her very closely now, and she has the feeling they are both awaiting something.

“If I submit to your directions, I want time to train each day or at least every other day,” she says. “I want to do more than to stay cooped up with my nose buried in a book. I want to watch TV, I want to read magazines and I want access to the internet.”

She draws a deep breath before she barrels on.

“I want to do normal stuff, like washing my clothes and making dinner. I want to chip in. I can’t have the other girls waiting on me anymore. I want time alone. And…” she says, “I want free roam of the house. You promised me that, when I came here.”

Malik waits until she’s finished before he speaks.

“That’s quite a list,” he comments and she has the feeling he is trying to brake her resolve and make her look away. Lil braces herself and meets his gaze levelly. A ghost of a smile flitters over Malik’s expression before his eyes finds Altair’s.

“ **There is no way we can grant her everything** ,” he says. Lil flicks her eyes at Altair and expects him to watch Malik, but instead, she finds him narrowing his eyes at her. Hurriedly, Lil feigns ignorance and retracts her gaze.

Altair is quiet for a moment.

“ **Her argument is valid, though. Right now, she feels caught and cornered and that’s working against us. We need to cut her some slack** ,” he says and Lil can feel his golden gaze following her reaction. “ **Throw her a bone and then let her earn the crucial points over time**.”

Malik sifts through the list in his mind as he mulls it over. His focus shifts back to Lil as he seems to reach a decision.

“I did promise you free roam of the house your first night here,” he says solemnly. “But right now, the safety of Emma, Molly and Farah comes first. You will earn that right, once you are not a threat to them or to yourself.”

Lil clenches her jaw in irritation, but holds her tongue. There isn’t much to say against his argument anyway.

“When it comes to your laundry, Altair will see to it. At the moment, you will not be taking part in any household chores. That too may change over time.”

This makes her perplexed, as she didn’t expect it to be a problem, but before she’s able to voice her surprise Malik has already moved on.

“You will have a say in planning your daily routine; time to train is fine, it will do you good, however there is still much for you to learn and the tasks ahead will keep you busy. Every evening after dinner, you will have time off the rest of the day. You may access the TV and there are books and magazines at your disposal, but you will not be left alone and you will not gain access to the internet at this point. That particular benefit is the last one you’ll earn up.”

It’s less than she wanted and less than she expected and there’s no room for bargaining in Malik’s expression. Still, it’s better than what she’s got right now. Lil swallows the lump in her throat. Her disappointment doesn’t escape Altair, though.

“You are not a prisoner here, Lil,” he says comfortingly. “What restrictions we impose is for your own safety as much as the other girl’s. After you have had a shower, I’ll show you the rest of the house. There’s still a lot of it you haven’t seen, and if you want to go somewhere later on, just ask. You may access most of the house as long as someone keeps you company.”

Lil nods quietly. She’ll take what she can get, and hopefully it will be enough to keep her from getting cabin fever. Right now, she’ll settle with the fact that the reins have at least slackened.


	15. On common ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people just sneaks into your heart, unvittingly works their way past all defences through their positive energy, their bright spirit or the care they show others. Evie comes along and in her, Lil finds a friend. But those you let into your heart better take care not to break it.

# On common ground

After a long shower and a quick change, Lil is wearing the only set of clean clothes left from her bag; a pair of old jeans and a fluffy rose-pink mohair top over a basic white singlet. The sweater is an old favorite, worn so much it’s nearly falling apart but she hasn’t got the heart to part with it. Her hair is still wet and for once, she has left it loose to let it dry.

Altair is standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame and in the hall, Lil can hear Malik’s voice.

“… **Jacob has no doubt they’re searching for her. The coffee shop was compromised.** ”

Lil turns her back at them as her heart falls. She spots her bag in the corner, sits down on the floor in front of it and starts sorting the washing, trying to keep her hands from shaking. She’d almost forgot about the kidnappers in all the turmoil of the last few days. Behind her, the conversation continues in a muted and uninterested tone, evidently intended to keep her ignorant of the gravity of what they are discussing.

 **“There are no signs of a break-in, but someone’s been there, and they’ve searched through the place. They took great care in concealing their tracks, too.** ”

“ **That goes to show we were right to vacate the spot** ,” Altair sighs. “ **Jacob and Desmond will deal with it.** ”

Malik hums.

“ **Mm. They’re keeping an eye out and will report back again before nightfall**.” Then he falls suddenly silent, as if he is listening. “ **Our time is up,** ” he says. “ **She’s ready.** ”

Lil draws a silent breath and tries to calm her heart. Altair has promised to keep her safe, she reminds herself. They destroyed her phone and took her cards when she came here, they’ve taken steps to ensure she cannot be found, and that makes her believe they know what they’re doing. Still, she cannot prevent her gut from churning and when she gets to her feet, Altair is thoughtfully regarding her.

“Are we ready to go?” she asks to avoid questions. He seems to recognize the tension in her as well as the evasion, but he lets it go. Maybe he writes it off as a remnant of her distress, earlier. Lil doesn’t care; she’s just relieved her secret is safe as he steps aside and they go down the hall.

“This floor holds most of our guest bedrooms,” he says and opens one of the doors. The room is a mirrored plan of his room, but the walls are a dark blue with gold trimmings. Lining the windows are midnight- blue velvet drapes. The bed contrasts the darkness of the surroundings with different hues of saffron and cardamom colored bedding. It looks like something out of an oriental fairytale. “Evie prefers this room when she’s here.” He closes the door back up. “The room closest to the stairs is Malik and Farah’s.”

Out in the grand hall he stops by the bannister. “The south wing’s second floor holds more bedrooms,” he says.

Lil tilts her head and looks at the wood panels, the gilded floral cornice and the opulent details of the room.

“How old is this place?” she asks in awe.

Altair tilts his head back and follows her line of sight.

“The oldest part of the main house and dates from the 1770’s but there have been a lot of changes made throughout the years.”

He takes her through the oldest section of the house and shows her a pristine old drawing-room, complete with a large, open fireplace where she feels as if she’s stepping back in time. Her feet sink into the carpet that lies under the sitting group, the pattern of stylized flowers in dark reds, backs and white. There is another parlor overlooking the garden and a large orangery that sits at the very end of the house. Lil is overwhelmed by the magnitude of the house and slightly daunted by the wealth that is evident in everything she sees.

Altair takes her through the most recent additions and tells her of their own improvements, made a decade back after a fire damaged parts of the house. The north wing, where Altair’s bedroom sits had to be completely rebuilt and the underground facilities were put in.

The underground too is massive. She thinks she’s seen most of it before, but now he shows her the garage where the elevator box sits still in waiting with four black suv’s standing side by side against the wall. Curiously, Lil registrars the solid metal doors leading from the garage and into the house and the large deadbolts to secure them. When she asks him about it, he brushes it off.

“Just a precaution,” he says, “in case there is a fire.” Just then, the lift springs into action. It disappears above ground and when it returns, Evie appears behind the wheel of another black vehicle. She parks alongside the others and steps out with a wide and natural smile on her lips.

“Welcome back,” Altair greets her and Evie nods before shifting her blue eyes to Lil.

“Is Altair giving you a tour of the house?” she says, but doesn’t await the answer before continuing. “How do you like it?”

“It’s a bit overwhelming,” Lil admits. “I feel as if I’ll be having trouble finding my way around.”

Evie laughs.

“You’ll get a hang of it soon,” she says. Altair waits for her attention with a half-smile on his features. When Evie looks back at him, he switches topic.

“Did you get everything?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says. “I have a trunk-full of stuff. Will you help me unload?”

Altair opens the car and the trunk is truly filled to the brim. Lil prepares for a long haul up the stairs, but when she takes the two first bags of groceries and makes for the door, Altair calls her back. Evidently, there’s a freight elevator off the hall just besides the garage. They load it up with the groceries and all the large boxes, before sending the elevator up and following on foot.

Lil walks in front up the stairs when Evie makes a quiet comment.

“ **She seems calmer** ,” she says. “ **Is she settling down**?”

“ **There’s been some progress** ,” Altair answers, “ **but she still has a lot of distrust towards us. Today, we had to reveal the truth of what will happen to her if she fails. It went better than I hoped, but I still wish we could have kept it from her a little longer. Allah knows she has enough to deal with as it is.** ”

Evie hums concerned as he speaks and when he’s done, she voices her thoughts.

“ **I always felt that it’s better she knows** ,” Evie says. “ **This way she’ll at least realize that there’s no threat of you taking advantage of her and that is crucial to make her trust you. Even if the truth of her nature is frightening, it’s probably less scary then what her mind can concoct.”**

Altair huffs in reproach to Evie’s statement as Lil quietly realizes the truth of her words. If their goals are truly what they claim, Altair would not abuse her.

“ **You sound like Malik** ,” he says.

“ **Malik and I are often of the same mind**.” There is repressed laughter in Evie’s voice. “ **Have you heard back from my brother?** ”

“ **Yes** ,” Altair hums. “ **Malik will fill you later**.”

That concludes their private conversation as they arrive downstairs. Lil makes to go into the kitchen, but Altair puts a hand against the small of her back and leads her on. At the top of the main hall stairs, he bids her to wait, then disappears around the corner with Evie in tow. They’re only gone a few seconds, before they appear carrying two of the large boxes.

Lil follows them down the hall to Altair’s room where they set the boxes down, before Altair leaves to get the rest. Evie clasps her hands together and catches Lil’s gaze.

“Now, let’s get you settled in,” she says, and Lil looks at her perplexed.

“What do you mean?” she says. Evie smiles.

“You’ll be staying for a while, Lil. I know you barely got anything with you when you left home… I know you would have rather chosen something for yourself, but as that is not an option right now, I’ve done some shopping for you.”

Lil stares at her as Evie opens the first box and starts unpacking. She happily chatters on as she pulls out one item of clothing after another. “I saw this on display and thought the color would suit you really well,” she says. “This is so cute.”

Lil’s throat constricts. There is no way she can pay them back for all of this. Then Altair returns, setting down another box and when Evie lifts her gaze, she notices Lil’s expression.

“Love, what’s the matter?” she asks as her brow crinkles in concern.

“You shouldn’t have,” Lil says, “There’s no way I can pay for this.”

Evie’s face softens and Altair speaks up.

“Child, you need not worry about the money. While you are here, we will cover your expenses.”

It doesn’t take away her unease. No matter what they say, she will be indebted to them, something she’d prefer to avoid. She realizes they are already paying for her living expenses, but that’s because they keep her here against her will. This is a whole other deal, and a lot more money. Evie sits down on the edge of the bed, as her features grows serious.

“You’re concerned about owing us a debt,” she concludes, “that we will demand something in return.” Lil doesn’t deny her statement and Evie doesn’t need a confirmation. She flicks a gaze at Altair before meeting Lil’s eyes again.

“Tell you what,” she says. “This was my expense; mine alone and it is a gift to you. There are no strings attached, Lil.”

Lil watches her unsure what to say. There are three large boxes, and if she remembers correctly there are another two still waiting in the elevator. More than she has ever owned, let alone bought in one spree.

“It’s too much,” she starts, but Evie just brushes it off.

“It is our fault that you are stuck here and it is our responsibility. You needed some new clothes and I sought that out. Now please don’t worry about it, Lil. The money is honestly of no consequence.”

Lil doesn’t know what to say when Altair coolly interrupts.

“All the tags have already been removed, Lil,” he says. “There’s no refund even if you were to refuse them. You’ll just have to accept. And when it comes to your sneakers, I’m giving you no choice. The old ones are already in the trash.” From the box, he extracts not one, but two brand new pair of sneakers.

“These are better suited to you, anyway,” he says.

Evie gives her a warm smile. “Come on,” she says. “This is supposed to be fun.”

Lil takes a step forward warily. Evie practically beams at her and somehow it melts her unease.

“First of all I want to see you in this,” Evie says and holds out a teal green sweater.

It’s a bit overwhelming to go through a whole new wardrobe worth of garments, but between Evie’s happy face and her encouraging comments she makes Lil comfortable. There are several pairs of jeans, basic t-shirts and singlets, sweaters in muted colors and bold graphic prints, there are clothes for exercise and comfortable clothes for lazy days, socks and PJ’s and sensible undergarments; everything Lil can imagine she’ll ever need.

The outfits that are thought-through and pretty, nothing tacky or too revealing, nor is it anything too bland or boring and Lil marvels at the care of it. The clothes are decidedly to her taste, and she recognizes the effort Evie has put into finding her all this stuff.

There’s even a dress, a bottle green satin thing with matching, moderately high heels that makes Lil’s brow crease in wariness, wondering if she will ever have a need for it or if Evie’s money and effort is a waste.

Altair stays mostly in the background. He moves some things into the bathroom, then takes a seat in the corner and watches with a reticent smile, answering Evie’s inquiry when she asks his opinion, but otherwise he stays silent.

Evie works through the heap of garments, sorts and folds them into neat piles before carrying them into the walk-in closet as if it’s the most natural ting in the world. Apparently, there was already room prepared for Lil’s arrival and for Evie’s supplies. Evie’s easy chatter and bubbling efficiency takes the brunt off the unease Lil feels as she realizes that she’s moving in.

When it’s all done, Evie shares a quiet and curious gaze with Altair before she turns and regards Lil warmly.

“There,” she says. “Now you’re all settled in.”

The words pierces Lil’s gut and she cannot keep the pain off her face. Evie reads it in an instant and her expression turns determined.

“Altair,” she says quietly. “Why don’t you go downstairs and help Farah and Malik prepare dinner?”

Altair leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. His eyes narrows at Evie as his expression hardens in resolve, but Evie continues utterly unfazed.

“Lil and I need a word alone, woman to woman.”

Lil senses his bristling disapproval towards Evie, but as his eyes lands on Lil he pauses. For a few seconds he seems to chew something over in his mind and then he reluctantly concedes. His eyes flicks back to Evie and Lil shrinks under the glare he sends her before he gives her a curt nod.

“We’ll expect you downstairs in ten minutes,” he says before he leaves the room.

Evie watches him go before she turns her eyes at Lil.

“Now, Lilaea. How are you holding up?” she asks and the warm concern in her voice nearly breaks Lil apart.

“I-I’m not sure,” she says and avoids meeting Evie’s clear blue eyes.

“It’s hard,” she says. “To be whisked away from everything you know to be locked up by strangers.”

Lil’s wary heart pounds with grief and resentment, yet Evie’s words sparks no anger within.

“I know, Lil,” Evie says quietly and Lil warily lifts her gaze to meet Evie’s eyes.

“They don’t want me to tell you this, but I think you need to know, and I will tell you anyway,” she says determinedly and her eyes glow in the falling light. “When my true nature surfaced, I was taken away and held against my will. I fought all that I could, swore to myself that I would never trust them, never give in. I let them believe I gave in and cooperated while I really did everything I could to get away. My deception was successful. In the end…” she halts as her eyes gaze back in time. “In the end, I nearly killed my own brother.” Her eyes shifts to meet Lil’s gaze and Lil reads her quiet horror.

“If it weren’t for Malik and Altair I would have drained Jacob and only realized it when it was too late.”

Lil reads the earnest in her eyes and the pain, feels it in her soul as Evie confesses. Evie falls quiet but holds on to Lil’s gaze as pain morphing into concern and pity and care. When she continues, she speaks gently as if she realizes how fragile Lil feels.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, more so than what was asked of me,” she says. “But you need to place your trust in him, Lilaea.”

Lil looks at her and feels the conflict as an ache that clenches her gut and pierces through her heart before she turns away.

“I know,” she says. “I’ll try”.


	16. Fragile-britte -frail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaching the end of the rope, will you shatter or surrender?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled a lot With this Chapter, rewrote it several times and still I'm not completely satisfied, but I've desided it vill have to do. I dont want to get stuck here, so bare over with me if you find some parts of it lacking.

# Fragile brittle frail

 

She’d thought giving up would be more painful, that grief and sorrow would haunt her steps. Instead, when Lil surrenders, when she decides to give up fighting and resisting, there is nothing to replace it, just emptiness gathering where the resilient spark of defiance has always dwelled. The anticlimactic void is numbing, like a gray fog of nothing that envelopes her soul and seems to slowly draw the color from her existence.

All the way through dinner, she ignores the hollow void, pretends everything is all right and puts up a brave face. There is to be a movie night later on and the distraction it offers is something she doesn’t want to miss.

She eats mechanically, knowing Altair will take her away if he suspects that she’s anything but fine. She feels his gaze upon herself a few times, but the tension has gone from her posture and it seems to throw him off and he soon averts his gaze.

Moreover, Evie draws everyone’s attention away with her bright and cheerful existence. Lil’s relieved she’s there, distracting her thoughts and for once, someone else holds everyone’s attention. To a degree, that makes her relax. She even manages a smile as Evie relays a funny story that makes the others laugh.

When dinner is done, everybody moves into the living room and the big screen TV, and Lil look forward to spend the evening at Evie’s side however, Evie disappears into the office with Malik. Lil watches her go  with a sinking feeling. It’s as if the room just grew a little colder.

She sits down on one side of the large U-shaped couch, skootches into the deep seat and pulls her arms around her knees. She wonders how long Evie and Malik will be gone; how long until Evie comes back, missing her presence already as she keeps an eye with the office door.

Across the table, Farah sits down in the middle of the couch with her back turned. Connor and Molly take up the corner, intertwined in each other’s embrace. The other half of the couch fills up as Ezio takes a seat. A discussion ensues over what film to watch, while Lil stays quiet. Molly and Farah opts for Lord of the Rings, but that sparks no interest with the guys and in the end, they all settle for a Marvell movie.

To Lil it makes no difference.

Her belly is full, but her mind is cold and quiet. She’s pleased she doesn’t have to spend the evening in Altair’s room, but the hollowness underneath it all threatens to consume her.

Truth is she’s worn out to the point she’s having trouble following the conversation around her. No one seems to notice though, and that’s just fine with her, so she keeps a low profile and doesn’t say anything. All she really wants is to forget where she is for a while, forget who she is and the predicament she faces. To escape reality for just a few short moments and relax.  

That wish is soon granted as the movie starts. Altair slumps down in the corner next to her and Lil turns her gaze at the screen. She feels his gaze brush over her, but as she relaxes further into the soft padding Altair’s leans back and watches the screen.

The film is one she’s seen a few times before, the action adventure’s familiarity easy on her mind. Soon, the plot draws her tired attention and she loses herself to the movie.

\---

A half hour passes before the office door finally opens and Evie and Malik joins them. Malik sits down with Farah, puts his arm around her shoulder and kisses her hair before he lifts his gaze towards the screen. Lil notices out of the corner of her eye, and somehow, the affection Malik shows Farah resonates with anguish in her darkened soul.

She tries to brush it off as Evie climbs over the backrest and takes a seat beside her, but the hollow feeling only deepens and when Evie flicks her a brief, warm smile, Lil struggles to return it. Evie doesn’t seem to notice as she turns to face the screen. Lil stares at the screen with unseeing eyes and tries to get back into the plot. A short moment passes before Evie flicks a gaze down, picks up Lil’s hand and places it between her own. Evie’s hands glow like the sun on a summers day and Lil can’t help but sink a fraction closer to her warmth.

In an instant, Evie shifts in her seat, turns away from the movie as her attention rakes over Lil’s face in surprise. Her hand skates over Lil’s cheek with the same radiant warmth but Lil doesn’t catch the alarm that raises in Evie’s gaze as her eyes falls close with relief.

“ **Altair, she’s really cold** ,” Evie says.

The sofa dips as Altair’s weight shifts by her side and then another glowing warmth settles briefly on her nape. Lil blinks at the contact, at the contrast that is another being and understands that something is wrong.

Altair curses animatedly between clenched teeth.

“Malik!” he says low and agitatedly, but Malik needs no prompting; he is already on his feet and leaving the room.

And then, without asking or saying anything, Altair shifts her onto his lap. Suddenly it’s as if she’s been placed in front of a fire, the warmth that radiates towards her burns against one side and leaves the other feeling frozen. His arms wrap around her in a tight embrace, spreading the glowing warmth over her skin.

“Child,” he says. “Little one, stay with me.”

A part of her remembers how she used to rebel and fight, but now she knows there’s no point and there’s no defiance left to react.

A hand under her chin tilts back her head and she meets his golden orbs. She registers the worry in his features however, Lil doesn’t understand why.

Isn’t this what he wants? For her succumb to his will and stop fighting?

“Stay with me,” he repeats. “I’ll take care of you, little one. Just hang on.”

She wasn’t aware that she’s going somewhere, but now that he mentions it she recognizes the descent into the internal abyss. The darkness there isn’t scary, it’s just a big quiet noting. Somewhere to escape, somewhere to relax; somewhere to find peace. It’s tempting to let go, to sink into oblivion and never have to suffer ever again.

The only thing really stalling her is warmth that radiates so pleasantly around her. She’s just going to savor it a little bit longer before she lets go. And since she’s going, there is no harm in indulging herself just a little. For just a little while, she allows herself to enjoy his embrace. She savors the opulent warmth that he bestows upon her in ample means; sinks against him as she closes her eyes and drinks in his scent.

“Stay with me child. Open your eyes.”

He always sounds so confident and level when he speaks, but now there’s urgency in his voice. It’s so unlike him, Lil opens her eyes. The fervent gaze that finds her own touches something in her heart. The desperation that burns there isn’t fake or calculating, but born out of fear. It penetrates the armor she’s spent years building around herself and suddenly she _knows_ he cares.

She draws a shuddering breath and regards the emotion playing in his eyes, the worry and the fear, the hope that lingers underneath. How could she not have seen it before? She tilts her head a fraction, stretching towards him, for the first time willingly; deliberately seeking him.

The fervor in his gaze softens with a wash of relief and suddenly his lips are on her skin, kissing her brow. It’s fervent and intense and blissfully warm, but the way the small caress sparks on her skin catches her unaware. It feels like finding the sun after a long winter.

“Stay,” he says softly. “Please little one, stay with us.”

She can’t seem to find her voice or the energy to speak. His lips hover so close, she feels his breath every time he breathes. She longs to feel them on her skin once more and tilts her head towards him once again. He registers the move the way he registers everything with those hawk-like eyes. A second of consideration passes through his gaze before he watchfully moves a fraction closer. Something in her eyes or on her skin must have confirmed her wish because suddenly her skin is peppered in slow kisses. They land on her brow, on her temples and on her cheeks and sparks as sunlight on her skin until the last one settles quietly, intimately on the bridge of her nose.  

“Stay,” he bids quietly, the word a soft demand, a gentle plea; a promise before he lifts his gaze.

His arms wraps securely around her again as a shuffle of feet signals Malik’s arrival.

Her eyes slips opens and instantly she feels Malik taking control of her mind. His will is a foreign intrusion, unyielding and rigid, but still so unlike Altair and she’s surprised to notice the difference.  In his hand is a cup with a steaming content. Determinedly he grasps her jaw and places a straw between her lips.

 _‘Drink’_ his will bids, and Lil draws a swallow. Her mouth is flooded with a sharp and tangy liquid, sweet and warm and spicy that burns in her mouth as it spreads over her tongue and trickles down her throat. Mentally, Lil gags and if it weren’t for his control she never would have continued. Her mind reels in unwillingness and distrust at what he’s pouring down her throat.

 _‘Still your fear, child. It’s just a brew of herbs to get you warm,’_ his will comforts as he makes her down the drink. An involuntary shudder of disgust runs through her, but only when the cup is empty, does he let her mind go.

She feels queasy, resting against Altair as the drink glows in her gut and the warmth spreads like liquid sunlight within, all the way down to her toes.

She blinks and registers the worried faces gathered around, the movie halted mid-scene and the silence of the room.

Now her senses are returning it feels silly to stay this way, cradled like a child in Altair’s embrace.  She stirs and makes to move away. There’s no strength to her limbs though, and Altair holds her back.

“Shh,” he says. “Stay. Relax. You’re exhausted, Lil.”

Fatigued, Lil sinks down against him, rests against his warmth.

“ **How on earth did this happen, Altair?** ” Malik says quietly. “ **In the gym she was tired, but she was still fighting. When did she give up?** ”

Altair stalls and Lil can feel ire radiate off him, even if he keeps it from his voice.

“ **Maybe you care explain that to us, Evie?** ” he says quietly. Malik’s attention whirls around to find Evie somewhere behind Lil.

“ **You told her?** ” Malik hisses. **“After I specifically told you not to; ordered you not to! Explain yourself.** ” Lil closes her eyes, dreading Malik’s anger even if it’s not directed at her, but Evie continues unfazed.

“ **You don’t understand what it’s like, being a young woman caught in her situation,** ” Evie says severely.

“ **And you think you do** ,” Malik interrupts.

“ **I do** ,” Evie says stiffly. “ **I know what it takes to let go control, to lay my life and freedom in another’s hands despite the danger that entails.** ”

Malik falls silent and Lil senses he is fighting to reign in his anger. When he speaks, the words are low and carefully measured, and despite the calm tone, he makes the hairs on Lil’s neck stand on end.

“ **You have no clue what you’re dealing with, Evie**. **You need to understand, that what she’s going through is nothing like what happened to you**.”

“ **What did you say to her?”** Altair inquires. Evie seems to hesitate as she stalls before there’s an answer.

“ **I told her she needs to place her trust in you,”** she says quietly.

“ **And what was her answer**?” Malik says.

“ **That she’d try**.”

Malik curses lowly.

“ **Why is that so bad?”** Evie says stubbornly. Malik pinches the bridge of his nose.

“ **We need her to fight, Evie,** ” he says. **“To get through this, she needs spirit and will and you just made her cave. She gave up.** ”

Lil cringes as she listens to the argument and understands what just happened, what she very nearly did and suddenly the room goes very quiet. A sense of foreboding creeps up her spine as she tries to feign ignorance and relax, but when she chances a quick glance, about she knows they’re is on her trail by Malik’s discerning scrutiny that now rests unwavering on her. Lil tries to divert her gaze, but then Altair gently tilts her chin up and finds her eyes. There’s no escaping his scrutiny as his will instantly wraps her own in a very firm grasp.

‘ ** _Child,_** _’_ his will says, ‘ ** _do you understand me?_** _’_

She doesn’t really reply, but the answer is there in her mind as she stares into his eyes. She can sense the annoyance and irritation he feels as he realizes.

“She knows,” he says to the room in general without letting her mind go. “Somehow she has picked up the language.”

He feels betrayed, Lil realizes and her gut cringes in remorse. She never meant to deceive him. She just needed to know what was going on. She doesn’t want to make him angry.

Altair disregards her fretting and runs a thumb over her cheek.

 _‘How long have you known?’_ the voice in her mind interrogates. His will starts sifting backwards through events until he finds the point when gibberish suddenly morphed into words. The scene plays over in her mind a few times while she senses his curiosity and dawning understanding and then he goes through every memory after. Lil hangs on through it all and when he’s done, when he knows the extent of her deception she’s devastated.

She didn’t want to disappoint him, now she finally dared to trust him. Now she finally knows for certain that he cares. Now; when she finally understands, she needs him.

He doesn’t say anything as he lets her mind go, just holds her gaze with those golden orbs. Lil waits with bated breath to feel his anger, can hardly breath as her throat constricts painfully in fear that he will push her away.

Altair sighs.

“There’s a reason why we keep things from you,” he says. “Right now it’s too much for you to handle, little one. I thought a foreign language would be enough to keep you out of harm’s way, but I see now that I was wrong. I promise you I will not make that mistake again.”

His thumb strokes across her cheek as Lil’s eyes are brimming with tears of relief. She’s so tired, so utterly spent. Her eyes fall close as he wraps her in his arms around her and tucks her head under his chin. Lil savors the comfort, feel his chest rise and fall and listens to the steady beat of his heart, letting it still her own and before she knows it, she falls asleep.


	17. Enlightenment*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To draw Lil from giving in to the abyss of eternal sleep, Malik has given her a concoction that releases her instincts from the confinement of Lil's will. Altair watches over her recowery and helps her deal with the effects of the drink. When need finally overcomes reserve, it's not at all uncomfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly smut in this chapter, but also laying down a few lines for a more long-term plot. Hope you will enjoy. Let me know wat you think.

#  Enlightenment

_She is an eagle, a mighty bird of prey that soars high above a scorched and ragged earth below. He sails effortlessly on the updrafts, barely even moves his wings as he corrects the course. A sudden gust ruffles his feathers, tries to throw him over as it rushes past. The eagle continues unperturbed, unfazed. The gales are unpredictable, it’s part of the nature high up in the mountains. Anyway, these are small toils of riding the wind this high above ground and it doesn’t affect him. He adjusts the angle of his wings, flairs the feathers further and slows down as he comes upon a distinct patch of rocks; squarely carved into the mountain, hollowed out and extended by the two-legged creatures dwelling there. These are his hunting grounds, a horn of plenty of the furry snacks he favors._

_On a patch of ground, buried under a tuft of dry grass, he spots a rustle. His breath pauses as he investigates the movement, eyes focusing sharply as his heart hammers with excitement in his chest. His sharp gaze searches past the two-legged ones, their shuffle of feet, the gleams of metal and kicked up dirt. There is something there, in the corner, but there’s too much commotion. Not worth the risk._

_A minute tip of wings and he’s off again, glides quietly through the air as he surveys the rest of the dwelling, assessing and gauging, noting the quiet spots and decides he needs to og further up. He adjust the angels of the wings, comes about in a great circle; brushes over the vertical drop of the crafted rock face where the ground plunges down a hundred feet and sails away to find the updraft that lingers over the shielded flats below the mountain._

_A lone rider follows the winding trail under him. Uncharacteristically, he catches the eagle's interest. It puzzles him; the two-legged are normally of little consequence, but instincts calls to him, tells him to follow. On quiet wings he trails the man on horseback, the importance of the hunt briefly forgotten. There is something unexpected on the gust of wind; a trace of something he desires…_

Her heart skips a beat. Another breath ghosting her skin as something stirs the air.  

She’s not an eagle.

Tiredly, she blinks, notices the faint light of predawn creeping between the curtains. It’s still early, she’s still worn out after last night, a bone deep weariness that weighs her down. She closes her eyes, the pull of sleep too comfortable to resist when a faint breath of air alerts her of movement. Her eyes crack open a fraction; searching, and finds Altair by the foot of the bed.

He is bare-chested, standing with his back turned holding something long and narrow in one hand. He lifts his arm, spins the thing once over with a flick of his wrist, and launches into a flow of movement.

Momentarily, Lil realizes he is practicing swordplay, the long and narrow thing; some sort of practice blade made out of wood.

_So, that’s why he moves like a dancer!_

Instead of being startled, there is a sense of accomplishment as the piece of information falls into place; having sensed something in him and finding out that she was right.

His eyes are shut and his face a mask of utter concentration as the fight ensues in complete silence, gracefully and deadly. The only thing making a sound is the sword as it carves through the air and the slight rustle of fabric as he moves with the fluid precision of determination and skill.

She watches him mesmerized, the way every move makes his muscle ripple and play, the broad shoulders hunched in a fighting stance, his chest rising and falling with each breath, controlled and measured; kept in a strike, drawn as he moves to a new position. His skin gleams under a thin layer of sweat, the slight sheen enhancing the line of his spine where it disappears under the fabric tied around his waist. The pants skim over the curve of his ass, flares out and then hugs tight around the defined calves where another set of ribbons are wound around the fabric.

Her heart flips excitedly.

He is the image of strength and power, of determination and control. Unequivocally male the way potency resonates through every fiber of his being, his every breath and every move.

Heat starts to gather low in her gut and makes it hard to breathe, but Lil can’t stop watching; can’t help herself.

The grip around the hilt tightens, emphasizing the lines of his forearm as the muscles flexes. A delirious thrill runs down her spine at the memory of those arms wrapped securely around her body. He lunges out again, stabs the practice sword at an unseen enemy, raises the arm and swipes the sword behind his back as he turns, all the while quiet and completely in balance.

All of a sudden, his eyes are open and he is looking straight at her. The fluid dance melds to a halt as he lowers the sword and the full weight of his attention comes to rest on her.

Her heart beats hard against her ribcages as he comes over to crouch by her side. He puts the sword down by his feet, rests on his hunches and braces an arm on the mattress above her head.

“Did I wake you,” he says and brushes a strand of hair from her temple. His other hand sneaks behind her hair and comes to rest at the nape of her neck.  

“How are you feeling, little one?” he says. His voice is dark and soft like the velvet drapes in Evie’s room next door. His close proximity wraps her in the alluring scent of his body, all warm and familiar, but most of all; enticingly male.

Lil swallows hard. What has woken inside her answers, a craving, a yearning that seeps into her core and settles there with a heavy warmth. Her mind turns to cotton wool as she strives to find her voice and fails.

Acutely aware the watchful gaze she’s under, Lil hides her face in her pillow.

“It’s all right, little one. You don’t need to tell me,” he says and his fingers brush comfortingly against her nape. Momentarily, sparks fly down her spine. Her insides clenches, and there is nothing she can do to stop the breathless moan that follows. Even if she’s face down in the pillow, he registers.

The hand at her nape pauses as he senses the cause of her distress. He waits as she levels out, as she tries to gather her senses however, it’s no use. The intoxicating scent he exudes is too close; she is too far gone already and no amount of ignoring or thinking of other things will ease the building pressure between her thighs.

Nevertheless, very soon there’s no oxygen left in her pillow and she has to come up for air. She closes her eyes and turns her head, seeks refuge half-hidden behind her hands, painfully conscious there’s no hiding her predicament from him.

“There’s nothing you can do about it, little one,” Altair says. “It’s Malik’s concoction, making you feel this way.”

Lil swallows dryly. He might think that the drink is all to blame; that this is just a reaction to the herbs that Malik gave her however, Lil knows there is more underlining her current state.

Something inside her has changed; irrevocably, fundamentally. The resentment and the anger that was there before, grounding her, is gone. Malik’s concoction heightens her senses, makes the smell and sight of Altair’s body a feast, and the underlying hunger that she’s ignored for so long roars. Now, all that’s left is a thinly stretched bashfulness to hold her back. She strives not to give in to it, tries not to notice the way his scent speaks directly to her baser desires, the way it promises the most delicious of treats if she just gives in. Tries to forget the relief she felt last night as she found refuge in his arms.

“You’re all right, little one. The effect will wear off within a few hours.”

_Hours?!_

How will she survive this heavenly torture of unrestrained and roaring arousal without giving in? Lil whimpers. Gently, Altair bends down and his lips grace her forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, his voice a low rumble of comfort in his chest that in no way helps.

“We very nearly lost you last night and this remedy was Malik’s last resort. He gave it his best and Malik is nothing if not thorough.” His fingers card through her hair and Lil struggles to breathe as her gut flips.

“I think you know what needs to be done, little one, to amend what ails you,” he says. Again, she says nothing, closes her eyes and feels the heat that flushes her cheeks with glowing fire.

Yes, she knows. There’s no way to ignore the throbbing demand down below or the steadily increasing slickness soaking through her undergarments.

Quivering, Lil rolls to her side, lifts her hand and bids him her wrist, a tremor of anticipation running down her spine as she faces him. There is a light of certainty and confidence in his eyes she finds settling, a calm that keeps her tethered as he takes her hand, runs a thumb over her wrist and then gently shakes his head.

“I can’t,” he says. “Not until later, after you have recovered… But I have something for you.” He picks up something from behind her back and places it in her hand, holds it there with his grip curling around her fingers. It’s egg-shaped and rubbery and when his finger flexes around hers, the thing buzzes to life.

_A vibrator._

Her face bursts aflame, with the insane spark of arousal that roars within. The confidence in his eyes doesn’t even flinch, even if she knows he’s reading every emotion that passes through her as clearly as if he were controlling her mind. She has never felt more vulnerable, more laid bare.

Still, the thought of having the toy _buzzing_ between her legs disintegrates the last remnants of self-conscious restraint. She draws her hand under the cover, pushes the toy into her sodden underwear and curls on her side. She grips his arm right in front of her, latches on and clings to him, keeps him there as her senses are flooded with humming pleasure.

“I’m right here, child. I’m not leaving.”

She buries her face against his forearm, hides from him and finds refuge in him, clenches her eyes shut as the warmth builds inside and the desperate need for release steals her breath. His breath is on her skin, his voice encouraging, praising, but the content unintelligible through the heavy haze. His lips are so close, she barely has to turn her head, were she to kiss him. His mouth so close… his teeth an inch away.

The image of his canines elongating flicker before her inner eye and in a flash she remembers the way he touched her throat, the way it whited out her senses. Her whole body _arches_ and she forgets how to breathe as liquid sunlight shoots up her spine, her core pulsing in blinding pleasure. Her keens rings with desperate gratification as she comes and comes and comes until she is obliterated; then slowly returns; her mind blank, her body still and lethargic and she finds his golden orbs glimmering down towards her.

He is still kneeling by the bed, cradling her within his arms. There is an affectionate smile on his face as he runs a thumb over her cheek.  

“Well done,” he says, and she can’t help the slither of happiness at his praise. She is too lethargic to feel embarrassed, to satiated and worn to feel unease and as he bends down and kisses her brow, she leans into it, the closeness of the gentle caress just what she needs. When he withdraws, she doesn’t say anything, just tilts her chin up and nudges him to do it once more. She can see the faint and satisfied smile ghosting his lips a second before he kisses the bridge of her nose.

It’s such a feeling of wellbeing, but she’s so tired, so worn. Didn’t he tell her this would restore her?

“I thought…” she fights the tiredness that swarms her senses, threatens to drag her under. “I thought you said I’d feel better.”

Warm mirth cracks his face into a dark smile.

 “You have been _starving_ , little one…” he says. His fingers ghost gently over her cheek and down her neck, deliberately making her skin tingle. “It takes more than a single meal to restore a famished body to health. You _will_ feel better, once your reserves are truly filled.”

She is too tired to take in what he implicates however, the shadow of promise in his voice makes something curl warmly inside and she can’t prevent the eager sigh at the shiver that slithers down her spine.

He gives her brow another kiss.

 “Go back to sleep, little one,” he says warmly. “I’m right here when you need me.”

\---

_The eagle follows the rider through the desert. He is in a hurry, driving the horse to gallop. The eagle wonders where is he going at this speed, what matters so much he risks the horse to get there. Something appears in the distance, a lone figure standing on a small sand dune._

_The eagle focuses, sees the slender frame, the gentle curves enhanced by the bare waist and the flowing garment of the pants; recognizes the jewelry around her waist and ankles, the soft chime as she moves. A female. Not one of these normal village women, but a dancer, a temptress; a concubine._

_The eagle looks back at the rider._

_Male. Metal gleaming along his back and at his side. A warrior._

_Effortlessly the eagle glides over the desert where the warrior chases the female. Every time he approaches; every time he crosses a hill and draws near to her, she disappears; vanishes into thin air just to reappear on the next dune, the next hill; the next turn of the path._

_Like a mirage, or a ghost._

_Still, he never relents, never gives up the hunt as the sun glares mercilessly down from a cloudless sky._

_\---_

When she wakes again it’s truly morning. The light shines through the windows, draping the room in a golden glow. She feels so warm; burning really and the thrum of arousal sits heavily in her groin. Once aware of it, the ache of it intensifies. Instinctive, she draws up her knees, but the movement presses against her swollen parts, only making it worse. With a groan, she rolls to her side and finds Altair taking a seat on her bedside.

She closes her eyes. The scent he gives off is not as prominent as it was in the night, maybe the drink is wearing off, or maybe his exercising made it worse, she doesn’t know, doesn’t really care. It’s still delicious, still makes her gut curl and even if it’s less noticeable, she can’t stop herself from trying to inhale every bit of it.

Gently, he strokes her cheek, then his hand wraps along her neck, his thumb tipping her jaw up until she faces him. Tentatively, she opens her eyes, meets the warmth of is golden orbs, and then before she can react, his eyes flashes as she feels him take control.

‘ _We’ve come to the point where you will learn to tip yourself over the edge_ ,’ his will informs. ‘ _I’m here if you need me, but I think you will find it manageable with a little aid_.’  

Then a series of images flitters through her mind, of the bathroom and the corner cabinet. The cabinet door opens and then Lil’s face heats up like a million suns.

Inside are several toys in different shapes and sizes and while she struggles to break his control, she learns the basic function of each of the different vibrators in rapid succession until finishing with the remote control features of a u-shaped, pink silicone thing at the end of the line. Then the images stops. In horrified mortification, Lil braces and tugs her will to get away from him, but his hold on her is far too strong.

‘ _Easy, little one, easy’_ he coos and her mind is flooded with his reassurance. Reluctantly she stills. _‘Trust me,_ ’ his mind says as she feels the warmth of his heart as he lets it flow through the bond. ‘ _I will never take advantage, never demean you or ridicule you for your drives, little one. I know what strength resides in your ability, and it’s nothing less than magnificent.’_ He seems so sincere, a fervent wish through the bond that she will finally understand.

 _‘You should feed the passion, child, not restrain it. Let it flow, let it surge and see what happens._ ’

And with that he lets her mind go.

“Now, get to it, child,” he says, and the relief to escape this level of intimacy makes Lil comply. She rolls out of bed and flees into the bathroom.

Turning the shower on, she intently ignores the cabinet in the corner while she undresses. Each movement, each brush of her thighs rubs her swollen nether lips together, every step acutely alerting her how wet she is, how ready her body is, how blatantly aroused she is. Gingerly she touches herself, lets a single finger slide between the folds, the plush and slick warmth surrounding her index finger feeding the furnace inside as she slides it back and forth. The fire grows, the hunger from before awaken anew, one she was intent to ignore and push back down after Altair’s interference, but now her will falters as the finger slides ever further. She finds the aching center and tentatively, slowly pushes a finger inside. It feels wet and warm and tingles starts to shoot up her spine. She pushes deeper, feels something deep inside _aching_ for attention, but she cannot fully reach. Each slide a delightful friction, but never quite enough as it never reaches the right point. Her fingers slides and reaches, first one, then two, almost; nearly there, always nearly but not quite. Resigned, she slips her fingers from her aching core, lets them slide along her folds until she finds the sensitive pearl and gives it a few tentative swirls. It’s not enough. Her heart is thrumming in her chest, standing naked, a foot away from the shower. Her core sings; the need inside growing. She should get in the shower, ignore the ache and let the warm water wash away the arousal. Nevertheless; something makes her stall.

The pink toy plays at the back of her mind. The way it curves is made to slide inside and rub along her folds all at the same time. It would hum against the swollen pearl and slide inside her core and maybe, just maybe it would reach just a bit further than her fingers does.

Before she can think too much of it, she opens the cabinet, grips the toy and the remote, almost without looking, then goes back and enters the shower. The toy rests heavily in her hand, the hunger to feel it’s presence elsewhere growing as the warm water runs down her crown and rivets along her skin. She waits until the toy is warm from the water, before she slips it between her legs and angels it right. The rounded part slips between her folds, instantly coated by the fluids there, the warm surface slick and smooth the moment she finds the entrance. There’s barely any resistance, just a delicious stretch of muscle and then her body gives way as it swallows the rounded half of the toy. A shudder runs through her as it glides in and settles; the flat pad of it neatly resting between her folds and nudging against the swollen clit.

Three taps on the remote and the thing buzzes to life, nearly making her knees buckle underneath her. Her breath stutters, and she has to brace her forearms against the wall, leans her forehead against her wrists and insentiently, the grips around control tightens, her fingers clawing for purchase. The hum against her folds is a perfect friction accompanying the slide of the inner part against just the right spot.

Consumed by the heavy arousal it creates, she ups the intensity just a notch, resisting the instant weakening of her knees as she groans at the intense gratifying pleasure that builds inside. She strains towards it, arches her back and feels it reach another spot, then crosses her legs and clamps down on the toy and the ever-growing need to come.

Again she flicks the control, reveling in the surge that nearly tips her over, but then the climb stops and the intense arousal throbs, roars through her body. Her backs arches as she squirms, desperate to come.  Frantically she grips the control, maxes it out, hovers on the edge in pleasure-pain as her core thrums in spasms, nearly, _nearly_ there. She keens desperately as the climax slips through her fingers yet again, then a sob wrecks her being, a desperate yearn for the touch of another, for _his_ touch and the difference it makes.

In the blink of an eye, the dark abyss opens inside and threatens to swallow her. Desperation turns to blinding fear.

She falls to her knees and cries out, a wordless sound of naked fear. Not a second passes before the door slams open and Altair comes rushing into the room. The water stops as she is bundled into a large towel, and then the toy stills.

Lil throws her arms around his neck and buries her face under his chin. His arms wrap securely around her.

“It’s all right, child. You’re safe.” He cradles the back of her neck gently as Lil trembles in relief. The comfort of his close embrace fulfils the dire need for him and the darkness reseeds, but then all the previous arousal comes flooding back into her veins.

Breathing becomes an issue and soon the barely contained moans turns a quiet whimper. Altair resolutely shows a hand under her knees and hefts her into his arms, carries her to his bed.  He lays her down and crawls in after her, pulls her to him as he tucks her under his chin and cradles the back of her head.

The toy buzzes to life, and Lil forgets to breathe, forgets how to think. His embrace makes all the difference in the world as the buzz and strokes picks up and steadily increases as it brings her right back to the peak. She hovers there a second and then she finally soars.

 

Her senses return, her mind her own again. Still cradled in his embrace, her forehead resting against his shoulder and tucked under his chin. His chest under her palms, splayed against warm skin. She draws a shuddering breath.

“I don’t want to be on my own,” she says quietly.

“You never need to,” he says. She closes her eyes, feels the comfort of his embrace fill her soul as she turns her head and gingerly presses her face against his neck. He is quiet and pondering, the sense that there is something on his heart growing. He draws a deep breath and eases the embrace until he can see her.

“Do you feel the light inside you, Child, when you come?”

Perplexed, she watches his inquisitive expression, wondering what on earth he is talking about. It’s blinding and warm and sparkly, but she has never heard anyone call it that.  

“You have no idea, have you? … No wonder you are fatigued,” he says and brushes a hand over his eyes.

“I’m sorry, child. I didn’t see it. I thought you knew, but clearly you don’t.”

She’s bewildered at the trouble he seems to feel, at what she’s missed and why it matters.

“This is something that needs to be fixed right away. It cannot wait and I need you to trust me to aid you, little one."

Apprehension finds no purchase in her sated mind.

"Will you trust me, Lilaea?” Altair says.

She gives him a tired nod of surrender.

“Then try and relax and we’ll see if there is one more in you.”

She has not forgotten about the toy, merely didn’t have the strength to move nor did she know how to extract it whilst in his embrace. Now he taps the remote and it starts to slowly oscillate inside, as the outer part rocks gently back and forth against the still swollen pearl.

She goes rigid within his arms, her body too sensitive for it to be anything but unpleasant.

His fingers grip the back of her neck, gently.

“Breathe, little one,” he says. “Relax.” And then the grip turns firm. All her muscles goes limp. Surprised, she tries to control her body, but her muscles doesn’t answer and as the oscillation continues unaltered, her body opens and the sensation turns warm and enjoyable. Lil stops strugling, takes a moment to enjoy the toy that slowly dances inside and the spark that is still there. Hesitantly she gives in to temptation, closes her eyes and _feels_. Slowly, Altair lets go and cards through the hair on the back of her neck, sending distracting shivers down her spine.

“Now seek the light inside of you,” he says. Perplexed, she opens her eyes; looks at him questioningly. What on earth is she supposed to look for?

“Go on,” he says, “close your eyes; see if you can find it.”

She hesitates a moment, then relents and closes her eyes. What is there to lose? She searches her feelings; a little distracted by the pleasure that simmers in her gut, but then suddenly she feels it; the glow of an ember deep inside, closely interwoven with the pleasure and the warmth.

“Do you feel it?” he asks. Lil rests her head against his chest as she feels the light sparkle, gently pulsing with the pleasure. Tentatively, she nods. He is watching, craning his neck down to see her.

“Good,” he praises. “Now focus on it, see if you can make it stronger.”

Lil focuses on the light, reaches for the little ember that glows beneath the pleasure. It’s so hard to grasp, every time she reaches it slips away through her fingers, but as she continues; every try makes her better. The ember grows steadily more defied, she sees it clearly now. When she reaches for it again, she catches it. And then it starts to crack. Her pulse pounds as hairline fractures appear, as sparks emerge and disappears up her spine. She inhales a surprised breath. The pleasure build as the fractures expand, as the ember glows and grows.

“Have you never felt the light inside you, child?” he says quietly. “Do you feel it? Do you feel the energy, the strength it brings?”

Another breathless shiver is all the answer she can give.

Yes, she feels the strength it’s radiating, the power it gives off. It’s seductive and mouthwatering and all at once it’s frightening. She has never hungered for anything this much, and despite the pleasure that surges with it, she’s holds back. As always Altair senses her doubt. The fingers at her nape caress her skin soothingly.

“Go on, there’s no need to be afraid, Child," he says quietly. "This can never harm you. It is your life force.”

With his reassurance, she lets go, puts her trust in him and let’s the ember grow into a burning orb. It pulsates with the beat of her heart growing brighter with each pound and then all of a sudden, the ball of light bursts. Liquid sunlight pours into her veins, licks up her spine with rivets of golden pleasure as her core clenches around the intrusion. This time, the climax is quiet and slow, but intense and fulfilling.

Her surprised gaze finds Altair, his eyes glowing and his stern set jaw relaxed in a knowing smile.

“ _There_ you go, little one. _Now_ you'll see,” he says.

He lifts her hand and kisses the base of her wrist, her heart hammering as the golden flow ripples with the contact. Through the haze of climax that still rolls over her in waves of excitement, she senses him change; the darkness rolling off him as it has done before, but this time she feels how the light inside her answers, surging fort as if the darkness in him beckons it and makes it stronger. A burst of sparks shoot down her spine and for a blindingly delicious second her core is alight.

Instantly, she knows what the feeding will do to her. In that moment he is all she'll ever need all she'll ever want. The only one who can satisfy her, and she wants him more than anything. Quivering, she watches his smile widen, watches his fangs elongate and feels the way her body hums in anticipation. 

 

Then his teeth sinks into her vein and as he draws the first mouthful, Lil becomes the sun.  


	18. Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lil savors the newfound contact with her power, but how does one contain a flowing force whitin a broken vessel?

# Awakening

There is a new force resting inside her, a golden light that fills her soul. A surety, a settling weight, a grounding force.

She’s not who she used to be, not the timid, restless being she was before.

Lil rests with her eyes closed, savoring the warmth of life that courses through her veins, filling her with thrumming energy to the tips of her fingers. Her heartbeat steady and sure and her mind a quiet reprieve, the glow inside a serene and solid reassurance lending confidence and quiet strength.

Drawing a deep and steady breath Lil exhales in shuddering relief.

It’s as if she has come out of the darkness, battled through a grave illness and finally is free. Where wariness has worn her nerves thin and strung her muscles tight for months, there is just tranquility. She flexes into a long stretch from head to toe, her back arching off the mattress as she lets out a soft sigh, feeling litheness and flexibility returning to her muscles.

Her eyes flutter open to greet the clear sunlight that filters between the curtain and into the room. The rays glitter lightly in the air; a new quality she registers with curiosity as her eyes fully open. Curious and fascinated, Lil sits up and reaches a hand out to let the rays play between her fingers, feeling the warmth inside answer where the light skitters across her skin. As if a live essence of the sun has entered her being and is answering it’s kin.

Then she notices a presence in the room. Her focus shifts and slowly her hand drops down in her lap. Altair is sitting motionless, resting on his elbows and carefully watching. A half-smile caresses his lips and Lil has the distinct feeling he knows what is going on inside her, that this is something he’s been awaiting.

“Now,” he says quietly, “how do you feel, child?”

She meets his gaze levelly, calm and sure. This time, his inquiry sparks no apprehension or embarrassment, just a focused alertness to her changed self.

How does she feel? Stronger. More perceptive and awake. But most of all; new.

“Better,” she says quietly, flicks a gaze to her hands where they rest in her lap and the patch of sunlight that plays along her arm. She’s naked, only the towel still wrapped across her front preserving her modesty. She thinks nothing of it. The cool air of the room graces the length of her back, nips at her skin but finds no purchase. The radiating warmth inside keeps the cold at bay. Keeps awkwardness and discomfiture at bay as well as she gets out of bed.

Altair gets to his feet and comes to meet her, halfway across the floor. His fingers curl along her jaw as she lifts her chin and faces him. He looks so _pleased_ and the sense of his satisfied mood washes over her as a gentle caress. The fingers of his other hand skitters over her features, the pads of his fingers gently tracing the line of her brow, the curve of her cheek, the shell of her ear before settling at the nape of her neck. Then he bends down slightly and his breath ghosts over her face. Lil closes her eyes as his lips press against her hair.

“Well done,” he praises and something inside her curls in happiness as she slips away into the dressing room.

She finds a fresh set of clothes, puts on a plane cami top and tights and throws on a long pale green sweater, all the while consumed by the new glow inside and the radiant energy it presents. Once fully dressed, she steps in front of the full-length mirror. Her movements stills as she finds her own reflection.

In the mirror is a mirage; a face with pale, clear skin and soft blushing cheeks, with clear blue eyes the color of a forest spring, breathlessly mirroring the summer sky, rimmed with long, dark lashes and framing it all; glistening brown tresses of hair cascading over her shoulders.

Tentatively her hand moves to grace her cheek and, with an out of bodily experience, she watches the figure in the mirror lifting a hand and mimicking her movement with unfeignable precision. Running soft pads over pristine skin Lil feels her fingers familiarity upon the touch. A new her, and still the old one; just improved.  Again, she is reminded of coming out of a long illness, as if a veil of fatigue and sickness was lifted, leaving health and life emanating from her very skin.

There is no restlessness at the discovery, just curious exploratory. Her hair has turned slick and glossy, curling in a way she has never managed to achieve when trying. Her eyes flitter over all the improved features, cataloguing the change in detail until she meets her own scrutiny in the mirror, levelly. The change is there as well, in the calm that rests unwavering in her gaze.

_‘Good’_ her soul muses. This is right; this is who she always was; who she was supposed to be.

She breaks away from her own gaze, notices the figure leaning quietly in the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest, quietly waiting. She turns to him, feels another sense of warmth inside, a bubbling delightful flutter as she finds his eyes and the warmth that lingers there.

Altair wordlessly stands aside and signals for her to lead the way. She feels his looming presence towering behind her, safe and familiar all the way downstairs, cranes her neck to find his gaze lingering on her form and blossoms with… pride?, satisfaction?, possession? … it’s hard to put her finger on the feeling and save for the wellbeing that represents. Beyond that she doesn’t care to question it.

It’s well into the day already and the others have finished breakfast a long time ago, but Malik and Evie are in the kitchen. Lil can hear them fall silent in the midst of conversation as she and Altair approach the room and when they enter, they are both waiting.

A second passes as Malik straightens, his features morphing from surprised to satisfied, before he schools his expression back into cool consideration. By then, Evie’s delighted amazement and relief has stolen Lil’s attention.

“Oh, Lil!” she exclaims. And then she hurries over and pulls Lil into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry,” she says, her voice muffled against Lil’s hair. Lil accepts the gesture, slightly taken aback when the endearment washes over her in a physical wave of warmth, heartfelt and all-enveloping. She blinks overwhelmed, still unaccustomed to the sensation as the light inside her surges forth.

Slowly, Evie lets go and the sense dies down and settles. As Lil gets a grasp on herself, she catches Altair and Malik in a quiet conversation, Malik’s dark orbs studying her thoughtfully. His eyes flit back to Altair.

“A couple of hours, then. I’ll bring her there.”

Altair gives him a curt nod before turning around to regard her too.

“When you have eaten, you will attend a lesson with Malik,” he says. He lifts a hand to caress her cheek and the sensation sparks tingles along her skin. “Try to hold onto this feeling while I am gone, little one.” Then his gaze flicks away.

“Evie,” he says as his gaze comes to rest steadfast at the female vampire. “A word if you please.”

Even if Evie seems to take no heed of the stern tone, Lil can feel how her energy changes, as if Evie is apprehensive as she walks away. Lil’s heart falls as she watches them leave, before Malik draws her attention.

“You need something to eat before we start,” he says. “How about we make some bacon and eggs?”

Instantly Lil’s nose crinkles at the thought and a fleeting smile passes through Malik’s eyes as she declines.

“No, I’ll rather just have some fruit,” she says. Malik nods quietly.

“Pick whatever you please, and then we’ll bring it to the library.”

Lil finds a bowl and picks a few items from the fridge while Malik finds a bottle of water and couple of glasses. In the library, he sets everything down on the small table in front of the fireplace. For once, the fire is lit; the flames dancing merrily and casting its flickering sheen to the room. Outside, the air is cold she realizes, a bout of frost slowly thawing away as the sun ascends, but still there is a chill to the air. Lil takes a seat in one of the low armchairs and savors the glow emanating from the fire, picks a banana and starts eating while Malik fills their glasses.

 “You don’t really fancy processed food any more, do you?” he says as he sits down. Lil finds his gaze resting on her. She looks at him, wondering at his question in form of a statement and shrugs uncertainly.

“Did you use to enjoy a traditional breakfast, before you came here?” he asks.

“Guess so,” she says halfheartedly and takes another bite. The corner of Malik’s mouth pulls into a faint smile.

“I think you’ll find your preferences are changing, if they haven’t already.”

She hasn’t really given it much thought, her appetite lost since this ordeal begun. She munches on the fruit in silence. Malik’s usual determined prying is making her uncertain and is starting to raise her hackles.

“Why? Nymphs don’t eat fried food?” she says cuttingly and Malik huffs a short sardonic laugh.

“I asked that question once,” he says and his gaze turns inward to a memory in the past, before his gaze settles back on Lil. “Apparently their partialities run toward food that isn’t ‘dead’. _”_

Lil soaks up the information with an indifferent face.

“Much like you, then,” she says tersely. Malik refrains from answering save for a lopsided pull of his lips and a glint in those dark eyes of his. Then he turns serious again, his face falling into demure lines as the sense of determination returns.

“The reason I tell you, Child, is to make you aware,” he says. “Whatever preferences you have, pay them heed and follow them. Let us know if there is something you require or if something is not to your taste.” He regards her thoughtfully a moment. “I must implore the importance of this, Lil,” he says. “You’ve stretched your resources far enough and ignorance will only do you harm.” He makes a short pause. “We do not wish to repeat last night, if we can avoid it.”

He could say that again. Lil flicks her eyes away, shuns the penetrating, onyx gaze as she hums an ‘OK’ before finishing the rest of the banana.

She sets her sights on an orange next, the bright and vibrant color making her teeth run in water as she picks it up. She digs her nails into the skin to get to the succulent flesh inside when Malik leans forth and pulls the fruit from her hands. He conjures a knife from somewhere at his side and sets to cuts off the top and bottom before making radial incisions through the skin from top to bottom. The way the knife rests in his hand, the way he’s not really focusing on the task and the precision he still achieves has her engrossed until he peels off the skin and pries the fruit in two halves and hands them to her.

She wolfs down the juicy fruit too before emptying the glass of water in deep swallows. Then she dries her hands on the napkin Malik offers her.  

“All done?” he inquires and Lil confirms with a nod.

“Good,” he says, “Then it’s time we got to work.”

There is no way around Malik’s tuition although Lil groans at the thought of reading more of the ancient book. She’s just, grudgingly, about to move to the window seat, when Malik motions for her to stay seated.  He gets up and moves the small side table out of the way before settling back, perched on the edge of the low armchair, facing her.

“Now to the matter of the day” he says as he pulls up the sleeves of the sweater he wears and leans forth, resting against his knees, much like the way Altair was when she woke.

“You have finally found the power residing within you, he says. “However, it is a fleeting force and within the next few hours, you will feel it start to dwindle.”

The thought of him prying into details of her new-found source of calm stirs some very conflicted emotions. Lil cringes, balking at Malik’s focus, bristling with reluctance and wishing he had ordered her to start reading instead. Apparently, her reaction doesn’t surprise him, but Malik pays it no heed as he goes on.

“When it does,” he says, punctuating importance into every word. “Your mindset will change, you will grow wary and restless again and you will start to question everything, just like you did before.” He pauses in his speech. Lil can feel the scrutiny she is under, even if her gaze is turned away while he studies her wordlessly. He sighs.

“You need to understand, Child; those thoughts are toxic, not just in the metaphorical sense, but quite literarily,” he says quietly. “They will eat away at the energy inside you and it is of utter importance that you stop.”

Lil keeps her gaze turned away while he speaks, watches the fire flick and dance uninterested and Malik falls silent once more.

“Look at me Lil,” he bids and when she reluctantly lifts her gaze, his eyes flitters over her features, assessing. 

“It’s already started, has it not?” he says, his voice falling grave and stern. Lil clenches her jaw and nods in reluctant confirmation.

The light inside is slowly failing; its warmth not as radiant as it was before. Unease is seeping back into her bones.

“You need to stop this, right now,” he says.

Unconvinced, Lil frowns to the fire and does not answer, but Malik will have no rejections.

“Close your eyes, take a deep breath and relax,” he says, and Lil sighs as she subjects. Her eyes flitter shut, all the while uncomfortably aware of Malik’s constant scrutiny. It’s not that easy to settle down, being under such a glare.

A moment passes and then she hears Malik’s short-tempered exhale of breath.

“Lil, you need to unclench your hands,” he says. Chagrined, Lil complies. It’s not as if she’s outright trying to work against him, but the way he’s always watching her always _surveying_ is disquieting. Moreover, her nerves are set on edge, she’s turning restless and agitated. The mental state she’s been under made her defenses crumple. It’s hard not to consider the faint ringing of alarm-bells at the back of her mind, now her mind seems to clear with disquiet. The pleasant ease she’s felt the last few hours is just a little too good to be true. A little too _convenient_ , keeping her content and demure. _Mollified_ … as if she were drugged.

And then it hits her like a plunge into icy water – _the drink_ ; Malik’s concoction last night – what sorts of _herbs_ did it contain? Her breath is drawn, sharp and harsh as her gut churns and her eyes shoots to Malik, accusation, worry and anger at an instant boil.

She’s on her feet and retreating before she knows it, Malik standing up as she does. His jaw clenches as his eyes pinches shut, before he huffs a nettled sigh when the last shreds of his patience evaporates. When he opens his eyes, his dark orbs freezes her on the spot.

Before she can utter a word of the accusations that are racing through her mind, he grabs her arm in a wise-like grip and hauls her out of the room with all the grace of reining in a wild horse. He steadfastly ignores the sputtering curses and angered growls she emits as he leads her through the house. His fingers just digs a little firmer into her skin whenever she digs her heels into the floor and tries to pry his fingers off.

It’s of little use.

Cold and angry, Malik draws her all the way to the end of the west wing. Not uttering a word, nor granting her a single look, he wrenches a door open and pushes her through. Her eyes widen in throes of budding panic as her gaze falls upon lush greenery and Lil clenches her eyes shut. Stiff with fear as Malik shoves her even further, she waits for the onslaught of impressions that are sure to come.

Somehow, the brunt of what starts peppering her mind isn’t really all that overwhelming. She chances a gaze and realizes they are in the large conservatory, the glass panes shielding her from the insistent liveliness of nature outside and her fear stills somewhat as Malik makes her sit on a low wooden bench.

When he steps away, Lil is drenched in sunlight, the flow of warmth washing over her skin calling to the warmth inside. It drowns out everything else as the golden flow inside her answers, blinds her as warmth sparkles across her skin, and steals her breath.

When she finds herself again, she’s turned towards the sun in supplication. Malik is standing quiet sentinel by her side in careful surveillance.

“I swear,” he says, his voice clipped and quiet in a way that commands her attention. “If you do not stop this nonsense I will force-feed you another potion by the end of the day.” From the sheer will lacing his voice, Lil doesn’t doubt that he will. His eyes burn with barely kept back anger, and he stares her down until she balks under his gaze and looks away.

Another irritated sigh breaks the silence as Malik draws a hand down his face. His gaze is turned toward the side of the room, his straight back and tight muscles clearly conveying his frustration.

“Let’s try again,” he says, words just short of clipped with the precision they are spoken. “This time, try to do as I tell you.” He is trying hard to sound calm, but it’s worn down and strained and he takes another moment to reign in his frustration. Then his eyes turn to her.

The pity there takes away what might have remained of her spite.

“Now, I want you to ignore me,” he says gently, as if he is asking her to trust him, instead of ordering her. As if he sees his own role in her trouble. Lil swallows as he goes on, “Ignore everything around you and focus on yourself, your breath and the beat of your heart.” He waits patiently as she considers his request, considers what just happened.  She recognizes the truth of his words and finally she relents, draws a shuddering breath as she lets her eyes fall close.

Her heart is pounding in her chest. Lil draw another steady breath and feels her heart stilling, notices the sparkle of sunlight that plays along her bare arms, the answer of warmth inside. 

“Good,” Malik quietly praises. “The moment you center yourself, your thoughts cannot fester to poison your strength,” he continues quietly. “Do you feel the good it does?”

Anger quietly bristles and the warmth fades to something cold and hard. Stunned by the instant change, her breath falters, before she remembers to seek the warmth inside again, finds the grounding force within. The warmth is such a relief to the cold hard nerves that has plagued her for so long. She gives him a barely perceivable nod.

Malik stays silent a moment, but she can sense his mood shift, the way he seems to relax at her admission. There is a calm warmth in his voice when he goes on, a offer of comfort now she is starting to understand. “Doubt and fear are poisonous, Child. Whenever your mind starts wandering down those pats, you need to bring them back on track or you will come to harm.”

Lil takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. Focuses on the course of warmth inside, the pulse of her heart and the thrum of energy there. Such a tranquil feeling, such a sense of freedom… like soaring on quiet wings, high up in the sky…


	19. Foundation of trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to make hard desicions, to face up; to choose and ultimately follow through. Who said life was easy.

# Foundation of trust

_The eagle climbs on a warm wind, soaring against a pale sky in the falling light. He rules the sky, his presence an unchallenged supremacy. She loves the sense of latent power he possesses, the way it reverberates through her with each beat of the magnificent wings. He’s strong, the stretch of feathers sufficient to carry both him and what prey he might come upon.  Confidence is sunk deep under his skin, lodged in his bones; morphed with muscle memory and primal instinct. More than anything, that is what defines him. There is no insecurity in his being, no hesitation as he moves across the sky._

_She envies him._

_‘You too, have power residing within. What’s preventing you from finding that strength?_

_The questions lingers, etheric and simple. She’s not sure where the thought originated, within the bird or in her own self. Now it’s there, she reflects on it, senses an answer within the spirit of the eagle. He knows what he is, has accepted it. Knows his strength and strives to see his full potential._

_She has done the opposite; denied her new identity, dug her heels in, ignored it, given up. The thing stopping her from living her full potential is herself._

_Maybe that needs to change._

_She has felt as if she has no choice, has balked and fought to avoid her destiny, but here, at one with the eagle spirit, she sees the fault in that decision. She does have a choice. A choice between living in denial, in struggle and emotional turmoil, or accepting what she truly is._

_There is fight in both aspects, difficulties she must face but she recognizes what path leads to progress, towards inner peace and contentment._

_There are two choices, but only one is right. When she finally recognizes that; when she finally, consciously makes the choice to commit, there is peace within her soul._

_She closes her eyes then, feels her spirit align with the eagle, at one where he soars on the last updrafts of the dying day._

_‘Lil-’_

_A distant call. Something far away she chooses not to acknowledge, savoring the tranquility of her soul. The call sounds again, insistently._

_‘Child!’_

At once, she senses her divided existence, of sunlight on her skin and a chilly wind ruffling through stiff feathers. Then the eagle breaks away and Lil clenches her eyes shut as the world tilts violently, at the sensation of being hurtled across a vast distance, then coming to a sudden stop. The accompanying bout of nausea and disorientation claims her senses.

“Lil. Are you with me, child?” Malik demands, his voice insistent.

Cold sweat is breaking upon her skin. The room is spinning wildly. She draws a shallow breath, resting her head in one hand while the other grasps the edge of her seat.  

“Lil…”

Lil groans in reply, the hand gripping her seat starting to ache with the effort of keeping herself upright. Then the world slowly settles down, her surroundings regaining equilibrium.

“Child, open your eyes.” Lil blinks slowly.

Malik is kneeling before her, his dark orbs intently focused. Lil draws a deep breath and closes her eyes. Tries to shake off the remnants of the spell. For a moment, she’s lightheaded and confused.

Did she fall asleep?

A split second of deliberation and she discards what she just experienced as being a dream. Somehow, she just knows it wasn’t. Something about the sensory perception and the sense of presence just too real for it to be some figment of imagination.

Malik has a firm hold of her wrist, his fingers pressing against her pulse. She can feel the calloused skin of his fingers pressing into her flesh and the beat of her heart against his fingers. When she opens her eyes, he has her under rapt attention, keeping a close eye out for subtle signs of harm or danger. He lets go her arm to gauge her temperature, his palm pressing first against her brow, then finding the skin at the back of her neck.

“You were lost there, for a while,” he says. “What happened?”

She deliberates what to tell him; weighing her words as he awaits an answer, his narrowed gaze never leaving and his mind obviously working ferociously.  How long was she out? Long enough for him to notice and be concerned. Long enough that he has already deemed this something new or she would be drinking green sludge by now. Moreover, he knows more about her powers than she does. He probably has an inkling to what happened, and she has made a decision not to shy away any more.

Tentatively, Lil lifts her gaze and finds his dark brown orbs.

“I believe I had a vision,” she says. His eyes widens. Malik is good at hiding his emotions, but even if he’s quick to school his surprise into calm consideration, Lil reads the emotion as it passes through his eyes. It’s not as much that she told him. Malik is startled.

“Is that bad?” she says quietly.

She bites the inside of her cheek while Malik watches her in silence, then flicks his gaze away as he considers. When he looks back down at her, he seems to assess her, carefully weighing his words against her state.

“It usually takes months to learn that trait, years to master it,” he says reluctantly. “The fact that you stumble into it, says something about your potential.”

This without betraying anything to point to consequence. Is it good? Bad? Another hefty challenge or a benefit? Somewhere in the back of her mind, it dawns on her that the significance might not hold equal stakes to them. A flicker of uncertainty, a remnant of the fleeing, frightened girl, before she closes that door. Malik gets to his feet, runs a hand across his jaw in thought before his focus turns back to her.

 “What did you see, Child?” Malik asks carefully. As if walking over a thin sheet of ice, he is proceeding cautiously. Their truce is a new one, and Lil senses he appreciates the trust she tentatively shows him. Still, she’s reluctant to show all her cards.

“It wasn’t as much seeing, as feeling,” she says.

“In what way?” Malik presses on. Lil draws a deep breath, reminding herself to stay strong.

“As if I was beside myself,” she says quietly. “As if I was here, and at the same time somewhere else.”

The room falls quiet. The sun prickles at her skin, warm and pleasant and reassuring.

“And where did your other half go?” Malik stares off into the garden as he asks. As if he knows what her answer will be. She was right to think he knew what happened.

“I was an eagle…”

She does not need to elaborate further, as Malik closes his eyes and nods solemnly, confirming that this is indeed what he expected. He stays silent for a while before he turns to face her again.

“Nymphs are born with a connection to certain other living beings,” he says, “- a sort of bond between their souls that lets you see through their perception. The connection seems to form especially strong with birds.”

Yes. Malik knows more about her abilities than she does. More than he lets on too. He regards her with reserve, telling her what he deems necessary, but Lil senses there are things he’s holding back.

“Have you experienced it before?” Malik says.

She has not considered it, but when Malik asks, she remembers the familiarity of being one with the eagle, the sense of strength and serenity. The memory brings a flash of an image from what she thought was a dream and a sense of recognition. With it a thought occurs. What if what she saw before was no dream at all? A desert warrior, a dancer… knights in ancient armor…

“Malik, when were you born?” she says.

Malik stiffens. His gaze turns sharp with alertness.

“Why do you ask?” he says quietly, and there is a distinct reserve to his voice. It’s clear he does not want to answer. Lil sighs and meets his gaze.

“Trust is a child of truth, Malik,” she says, throwing his own words back at him. His face falls stern and his jaw clenches as she continues. “It also runs both ways. If I am to trust you, you need to trust me with something too.”

He chews her words over in his mind, considers it while his gaze lingers. Then he grudgingly concedes.

“I was born in the year of the Hijra 543,” he says stiffly. The answer means nothing to her.

“… witch means?” She is intent to have this snippet from him. Malik presses his lips together another second while his eyes glow with discontent.

“1165,” he says.

“-more than 800 years…” the words fall as a breath from her lips. Malik’s lips stretches into a derisive smile.

“Yes, _Child,”_ he says. “I’m 853.”

There is a hierarchy among the vampires, one that is never commented, but shows in the interaction between them. Lil has never wondered who are youngest, never doubted who are in charge. Malik is always conferred in the decisions, his word often the final reason in a conclusion, but Altair is the leader. Malik once or twice referred to him as “Novice”, not in the way of a mentor to his student, but in the taunting way of a competitor; of a fellow student. Malik and Altair grew up together; of this, she is certain. Witch means… 

Lil swallows dryly and senses Malik’s gaze resting on her.

“Careful what you ask for,” he says. “It might be more than you can stomach.”

The warrior she saw was Altair. She knows it now, recognizes the man in white, the silhouette of his form, the way he moved.

“What did you see, Child?” Malik says. Lil realizes she has not guarded her surprise, that her expression has let on she knows something; has seen something. Realizes that _that_ was Malik’s intention and probably the only reason he said anything at all.

His arms are crossed over his chest, his feet planted solidly in front of her as he awaits an answer. Malik is not going to budge and Lil relents. She is not going to run from this anymore.

“Just snippets,” she says, clasping her hands together. “There was a fortress on a mountain. Some warriors training in a yard. I followed a lone rider from there, out into the desert.” She raises her gaze and meets his onyx eyes. “I think it was Altair.”

Another stretch of silence as Malik considers her words. Then he sighs and flicks his gaze away. Some of the tension leaves his body as he takes a seat beside her on the bench.

”We always knew you might have the gift of the Sight,” he says, flicking her a sideway glance. “It is a common skill among your kind, but as I said it’s unusual for a nymph to acquire it this early.” He leans forearms on his thighs and clasp his hands together, runs a thumb over his palm in thought.

“For now, I would rather you avoided seeking out this talent until you’ve mastered maintaining your energy,” he continues. His eyes glow in solemn seriousness. “Using your powers will draw on your strength, and we don’t know how severe it will affect you.”

“Ok.”

Malik knows she did not intend to fall into a trance, and so he sets out to help her understand what happened. He makes her go through the details, how she felt, where her focus shifted; makes her aware of specifics that led to that particular mental state. It surprises her, the way he picks apart what happened, makes her analyze and understand and she recognizes in him the capable teacher; making her think, rather than just giving her the answers. It makes her reconsider him with budding respect.

Malik regards her quietly in return.

“Do you think you can manage an hour in the library?” he says and she knows he refers to her energy level.

It feels stable now, the warm glow steady and sure; as if she has fixed a leak. When she confirms, there is a light of satisfaction in Malik’s eyes. As if he senses Lil has turned a corner and he is satisfied with her progress; recognizes the effort she’s made. His acknowledgement blows as a warm wind through her, another essence fortifying the glowing strength within her soul.

\---

At dinner that night, Lil is more at ease. She’s managed to keep to her decision of acceptance and cooperation and the light has stayed. Even if it’s still a struggle, and even if finding Altair in the gym was a relief after only an hour in the library, she feels better than she did yesterday. She knows the choice is right.  

The chatter flows light and companionable as Lil takes a seat between Evie and Altair halfway down the table. Connor and Molly chooses to sit at the other end with Emma, while Ezio takes a turn pouring wine. The table is once again set with plated meals for the girls and drinks for the vampires, but this time, Lil receives a salad of green leafs sprinkled with some kind of white cheese, pine nuts and cuts of figs.

Lil lifts her gaze and finds Malik and Farah across the table.

“This looks delicious,” she says and acquire a smile from Farah. Farah is the one in charge of the common meals, Lil has learned. Malik helps her out and no one is allowed into the kitchen while they work.

The other girls are served a dish of venison with honey-glazed vegetables and a red wine sauce. A delicate dish, but Lil finds it’s not to her fancy. Malik was right; her preferences are changing and Lil is thankful for the custom-made dinner. 

By her side, Ezio sets down a glass of wine for Altair and as he moves on, a whiff of the aroma reaches Lil’s nose. It has a rich, fruity flavor that tickles her senses deliciously. Amused, Ezio catches her slightly widened gaze.

“Would you like some wine, Bella?” he says. Lil is not sure she should be drinking alcohol. On top of everything else, the influence of the drink might not be a good idea, but she can’t deny the offer is tempting. She looks to Malik questioningly and he catches her hesitation.

“A glass of wine is not a problem, Lil,” he says. In his gaze, she reads the underlying message: _If there is something you desire, follow it._  

Lil agrees to a glass and while Ezio pours, a smile edges across his lips. Malik catches his amusement and his face falls into stern lines.

“What is so funny, Ezio?”

“Maybe you need some wine to calm your nerves, Malik?” Ezio says. “I hear the girl has been stretching your patience.”

Lil’s eyes shoots up to Malik, embarrassed heat rising up her throat as she realizes the display she made of herself earlier, but then she notices that Evie is red-faced from bitten-back laughter. Even Altair is fighting back a smile.

Malik straightens in his seat.

“She’s nothing compared to the pain you once were,” he says. His voce might be stern, but the light in his eyes betrays his amusement. “Not to mention you, Evie,” he continues and Evie breaks into a bubbling laughter. Ezio lays a hand on Lil’s shoulder.

“You shouldn’t take Malik’s anger to seriously, Bella. It’s easily risen, but quelled just as soon.”

“There is no reason provoke him intentionally, though,” Altair says, and the others agree wholeheartedly.

Ezio finishes pouring wine for the others, then goes to sit beside Emma. The meal commences and Lil savors the palette of flavors put together. The wine especially is a delight, the full body and dark undertones of something sweet just to her taste. Malik seems to appreciate it too as he takes a sip and lets it sit in his mouth before he slowly swallows.

“Sometimes though,” he says, “An argument is needed to make some progress.” The others look his way, as Malik’s eyes comes to rest on Lil. “To face off can clear away misunderstandings and level the playing field.”

“You made some progress today, then?” Evie asks. Malik hums as he meets her gaze.

“After clearing away some uncertainties, Lil revealed to me she possesses the Sight,” Malik says offhandedly and the room goes silent as the vampires gaze turns her way. “The Child drives a hard bargain though,” Malik looks back at Lil with a light of amusement playing in his dark orbs, “she made me disclose my age, before she would tell me what she saw.”

A round of general amusement settles as Altair speaks up.

“What exactly did she see?” he says, glancing at Lil sideways before meeting Malik’s gaze across the table.

“Masyaf,” Malik answers, “and you leaving the fortress. She _followed_ you into the desert.”

Lil can’t help but think that Malik puts a hint of stress on the word ‘followed’, but nobody else seems to pay it any heed and she misses the grave look exchanged between them as Ezio addresses the room.  

“Mastering the Sight this early …” he says, watching her with a sense of curiosity and respect, “that’s unusual, isn’t it?” Malik turns to him.

“It is,” he says. “And don’t encourage her. It’s not something she should explore at this point; not until she manages maintaining her energy, lest we want to draw her from the edge of death every night.”

The chatter picks up again and soon turns towards Ezio’s youth. He speaks fondly of life in Tuscany at his uncle’s estate, training under Malik as the head of his uncle’s guards.

It feels like a diversion, but it’s nice, getting to know something of their backgrounds and Lil lets herself enjoy the company. It soon becomes clear that Ezio’s story too, goes a long way back. Like when he describes travelling the _main road_ between two _major_ cities and getting into trouble crossing _a ford_ , or when he mentions a bet and the amount he won - _in_ _florins._ Moreover, Ezio talks of a time of conflict and city-states at war with each other.

Lil has finished eating and is nipping at her wine. She’s just a little buzzed, a pleasantly numb warmth spread throughout her body, that in a way resembles the warmth her power leaves. She clings to Ezio’s words trying to decipher how old he might be and somewhere in his story he halts, meeting her gaze above the rim of his glass.

“Was there something on your mind, Bella?” he says with a half-smile tugging at his lips. Lil retracts her gaze and Ezio laughs. “Come now, don’t be shy.”

Lil clears her voice, aware of Emma’s tightening shoulders. Unsure if she is the only one putting the pieces together or just the one who does not know.

“What you speak of,” she says. “That’s like… 15th century or thereabout, isn’t it?”

“Indeed,” Ezio says, his smile widening. Words falter her as Ezio regards her humoredly.  

“If you want to know my age, Bella, all you have to do is ask. It’s not a secret,” he says. Lil feels her face heat up. She _was_ curious and she didn’t think it was something the vampires specifically want her to know.

“I-I didn’t -,” Lil starts, feeling as if she’s just been caught red-handed.

“But you think my age matters, that 550-something years make me old,” Ezio continues.

“That’s not what I said,” Lil says, flicking a startled gaze at Altair, worried that Ezio has taken offence at her inquiry, but to her relief Altair seems amused.

“Don’t tease her, Ezio,” he says. Ezio sniggers as he raises his glass.

“Years does not age us, child,” he says and takes a sip. “They just make us experienced.” And then his eyes falls knowingly upon Emma who blushes happily under the weight of his gaze.

 ---

“You walked straight into that one,” Evie says when dinner is done and they are clearing away the dishes. “Ezio was just waiting for a chance to make that point.” Farah casts a glance over her shoulder towards Evie.

“Do you think he’ll ever go bored with that old joke?” Farah says, laughing.

“Apparently not,” Evie says as she puts down the plates in the sink and starts rinsing them off. Lil takes them off her one by one and puts them into the dish-washer.

“Well,” Evie says, meeting Lil’s gaze as she hands her another plate, “he does have a point.” Lil’s eyes widen. There’s a crooked smile on Evie’s lips and Lil can’t help but laugh as Farah spins around gaping.

“Hold on a sec. Are you telling me that you and Ezio…” Farah all but whispers.

“Shh,” Evie says giggling, “It was once… or maybe a few times, a long time ago. Before Henry and I got together. I was very young.” Her face is bright as a flame and Lil and Farah starts giggling furiously while Evie blabbers excuses. Then she falls silent with a smile tugging at her lips.

“Well?” Farah says expectantly. Evie casts a gaze at the door, before meeting both their gazes in turn. For the moment, they are alone.  Evie lowers her voice and Lil and Farah leans closer.

“It was just…,” she says and flicks her eyes skyward with a little sigh, “mind-blowing!” She flushes furiously again while bubbles of held back laughter fill the room. “But then I had absolutely no experience what so ever,” she dismisses with a shake of her head. “Don’t tell anyone, though. Nobody knows except Henry, and I’m afraid neither Altair or Malik would be impressed to know it happened. Not to mention what Jacob would do if he…”

Just then, Altair walks into the kitchen. Lil, Evie and Farah swallow down laughter to the best of their ability, but their amusement does not pass by him.

“What goes on here, then” he says and eyes everyone with interest.

“Nothing,” Evie says biting the inside of her cheek.

“Just us girls having a laugh,” Farah smiles, flicking Lil a humored gaze that Lil returns in kind.

 

Altair has plans for her it seems. He takes her through the hall to the main staircase of the house. He eyes her sideways as they walk, obviously considering what passed in the kitchen and when he raises a question it’s not a surprise.

“What were you talking about just now?” he says and looks at her. Lil looks straight ahead as she continues walking.

“It was nothing, Altair. We were just having a laugh,” she says.

“Then there’s no reason why you can’t tell me what it was,” he says.

“It was just girl talk, it’s not your business,” she says with laughter still bubbling beneath the surface when suddenly Altair grabs her arm and roughly turns her to him.

“Right now,” he says, “Everything concerning you is my business,” he says sternly. Lil sighs, exasperated at his relentlessness.

“Then you should know the pressure that I’m under and recognize that having a laugh with friends is a good way to relieve some stress. I’m not keeping things from you, Altair. We were just having a little fun.”

 He regards her a few seconds further before he finally relents.

“Then you’re all right?” he says.

“I’m fine,” she says resolutely.

“Good,” Altair says, “…because we’re going out.”

Then Malik is suddenly there, handing Altair a jacket and before she knows it, Lil is bundled into her coat and shoes and brought to the door. Malik looks at her solemnly as he halts with a hand on the doorknob.  

“Remember what you learned today,” he says. “Do not let your mind wallow in despair, child.”

“But…”

“Once you fall of a hose, it’s important to get back up again,” Altair breaks her off. “There is nothing to fear, Lil. It’s nighttime now. I think you’ll find it manageable.”

Malik opens the door. Lil steps out on the porch and is greeted with a rush of crisp, cold air. Her exhaled breath billows white and soft from her mouth, before slowly dispersing in the air. Malik walks out into the starlit evening and when Altair gently ushers her on with a hand at her back, Lil tentatively follows.

The moon hangs low over the horizon, stretching pale fingers to the ground in faint patches of light. The woods beyond is swaddled in darkness. Lil draws a shaky breath, smells the wet earth beneath her feet, the budding frost covering the grass, the decomposing leaves layered on the forest floor. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hoots hollowly.

Altair strokes her back.

“You all right?” he says.

“Mm,” Lil manages undecidedly. Darkness and cold has quieted the world, but still it feels as if she’s pelted by impressions. She swallows dryly and draws another deep breath.

“It’s important not to let it overwhelm you,” Malik says. “Don’t try to process everything, just let it go. It’s just like earlier today, Lil. Find your center and let the impressions flow past like a river.”

Lil looks at him, despairingly. The orchard at the end of the garden makes it’s presence known by the smell of ripe apples, the sweet odor filling her senses as if the apple was in her mouth, not two hundred feet away. Lil swallows again, then blinks at the sudden reprieve when Altair’s hand moves across her back.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says, and they set off down the graveled path.

Lil struggles to follow Malik’s advice as the three of them wander down the path. She tries to ground herself in the present, tries to let go like Malik suggested, but it’s hard when it feels as if her nose is an inch from the wet soil beneath her feet and the apples in the orchard are being forced down her throat.

The only thing that seems to help is the hand stroking her back. The warmth of Altair’s touch draws her attention, makes the impressions less important. She tries to anchor herself to the sensation, warmth seeping through her coat, the comforting weight of his hand. It helps. A bit.

Malik and Altair keeps a quiet conversation and tries to engage Lil too, but she has more than enough with herself and answers only in single words. The gravel crunches beneath their soles as they walk. Suddenly the moon disappears behind a single dark cloud and the remaining light falls. Lil lifts her head and is greeted with a spectacular sight. The velvety darkness is sprinkled in specks of light of a million stars, all across the sky. Her feet stops by their own accord, overwhelmed by the beautiful display. Specks upon specks of dazzling light.

The sky was never this clear in the city.

She’s struck by the vastness, the unfathomable size and distance of the universe and her own insignificance in all of it. Altair and Malik too halts by her side to watch. For a little while, no one says anything. A shooting star appears just south of Ursa Major and burns all the way across the sky before it withers and dies. Then the cloud passes. The moon reappears and the quiet onslaught continues. Her stress must be evident, because Altair squeezes her shoulder comfortingly and Malik looks at her reassuringly.

“It’s just noise,” Malik says. “It takes some time getting used to, but in time you will pay it no heed.”

Lil finds that hard to believe.

\---

The cold outside has sunk beneath her clothes and the duress of being outside has drained her energy before they head back inside. There’s nothing left of the golden glow but a memory and the need to restore what she lost an aching in her bones.

Altair takes her to his room. Lil says nothing as they make their way there, hoping he intends to help her mend the ail. She goes to stand by the bed, restless and fatigued as he closes the door. Then he turns and crosses the distance to her. Lil is trembling as he cups her jaw in both hands. The rough texture of his palms is warm against her cheeks as he tilts her face up.

“How are you faring, Child,” he says quietly.

Lil lifts her gaze to his, unable to mask the pain she feels. She feels horrid. The lack of energy a hole inside, that aches for relief.

Altair needs no answer. He reads the regression in her eyes and on her skin.

“The light is all gone, isn’t it?” he says. His hand slides to the back of her neck, a sure move as he checks for warmth.

Lil almost whimpers. What is he doing? Why does he care to check if he already knows how things are? She was sure he would waste no time to see to her need when they went to his room. The thought of replenishing her energy is all-consuming, a hunger sunk into her teeth and burning in her bones. Why is he stalling?

“I know you don’t feel well,” he says, “but I’m going to push you a little further.”

Lil’s face contorts in frustrated despair. Altair brushes a strand of hair from her face.

“It’s important that you learn to withstand the darker sides of your power,” he says. “The safest way to achieve that is to bring your energy low.”

Lil clenches her eyes shut.

“Can we please do it another time,” she whimpers. His expression remains focused and his golden eyes holds no pity for her as he answers.

“Postponing this will teach you nothing,” he says. “It is better to get it done. I promise you we’ll tend to your energy, once when we’re finished.”

There’s no point in arguing with him. Lil fights back her frustration and accepts with a small nod, hoping the lesson is short and knowing that he’ll make good of the promise.

“What do you want me to do?” she says downhearted.

He lets go and takes a few steps away. His lips draw up in a ghost of a grin that suits him all too well.

“Resist,” he says.

And then, he turns.

Disheveled, she feels the darkness in him grow, a surge of power that trembles through his being as his teeth elongate. She can’t help the gasp as it happens, the sight all tumbled into a heady mix of rousing and scary that she doesn’t want think too much about. Then his scent reaches her and she knows what he’s planned. Lil steps back and wrenches her head away when a whiff of the familiar spices sneaks into her nose. She closes her mouth and holds her breath. Avoids looking at him too. Her heart is suddenly hammering in her chest, her palms sweating.

The darkness in him sneaks tendrils towards her, teasing the need inside as her lungs start to burn. It’s not easy to hold your breath when your heart is racing a hundred miles an hour. Very soon she’ll be out of air. She needs to breathe. Shakily she exhales, backtracks as far away as she can to get away, but Altair just follows. Lil draws a gasped breath and closes her mouth again, trying desperately to ignore the warmth of his scent, the enchanting undertones that marks him male.

His darkness wraps around her. The temptation grows too strong. Lil exhales a shaky breath and then the full force of his essence hits her.

The spicy warmth has an edge of musk that rips at her nose. Combined, it’s sharp and _enticing_ and it sings through her bloodstream as she draws another shaky breath. Something volatile inside her lurches. Lil feels her sanity slipping, as if something with claws and sharp teeth is about to break loose.

“Altaiiir,” she whimpers, fresh out of retreating steps as the wall presses against her back. Altair takes another step towards her.

“Focus,” he says, the voice stern and the single word a command.

The hunger burns under her skin, makes her mouth run in water. Her gaze draws in his direction on its own volition and then something feral studies him with inexplicable, newfound interest.

He is lean and strong, chest and shoulders broad with taut muscles. They play under his skin with each little move as he exhales. A ripple runs up his forearms as his hands close and open, a suggestion of the latent strength there. A thrill runs up her spine.

 He lowers his head now, watches her with glowing focus under stern set brows.

She raises her nose and breathes him in, smells the potency on his skin and excitement coursing through his veins. Her pupils widen and her teeth runs in water, sensing the power residing beneath his surface.

A delicious _treat_ , hers for _taking_.

Hunger burns inside, her whole body shaking as she sees herself wrestle him to the ground, feeding off that delicious energy and taking what she needs.  

A spark of horror is her last sentient recollection, before hunger makes something inside Lil snap.

The Mara roars, an inhuman, high-pitched shriek of famished rage. Then the beast lashes out, instinctually trying to sink claws into The delicious Prize that taunts her so. Pain flares when The Prize batters away the attack, sends her sprawling with a blow to her side. The Mara snarls in irritation as she smacks into the wall, whips around and growls at her prey. Who is _he_ to deny her what she _wants_?

Launching from her crouched position the beast aims for his throat with a roar of anger. Claws lashes out for him, fingers trying to get past the infuriating defense. He is fast. And tricky. _And Oh, my!_ The smell up close is even richer. The heady scent makes her eyes roll and a solid knock from those strong hands sends her tumbling across the floor again.

Crouching, she raises her gaze, finds the prey standing before her, the black tendrils dancing about its being, tempting, taunting. She sees the energy flowing under the surface; can almost feel it on her lips. She draws a slow breath, inhales the scent with half-closed eyes.

Yes. Excitement burns through his veins. This she can use. She will conquer him.

The Mara lowers her head, finds her pray watching with burning eyes. She looks at him through lowered lashes as she rises to her feet. Swaying her hips, she takes a step forth. The golden orbs gleam as the pray takes up a defensive stance. Muscles bulge under thin layers of cloth and smoot skin.

Another thrill down her spine.

A _perfect_ specimen. What a _treat_ he will be.

He does not budge as she takes another step. Almost there. Just one more step and the price is within reach. His scent is intoxicating, the taste driving her senseless with _hunger_ and _want_. Anger coils, strong and potent deep in her gut. And then, she lashes out. She gains a grip on the cloth he wears, tugs to get him close and for a second there is warm skin under her fingers before the pray breaks her hold and backtracks away. Incensed, she follows, reading the retreat as weakness and sensing the victory ahead. A dark laughter rumbles from throat.

The corner of his lips draws up and then the counter hits. Her feet disappears from under her and the beast falls hard on her side. The air is knocked from her lungs and before the Mara reacts, she’s pinned down with the hard floor against her chest, an unyielding weight between her shoulder blades and her hands in a wrench above her head.

Anger presses through her veins at being so close to the treat and yet out of reach. Then his dark tendrils slithers closer, sneaks against her body. Want burns through her like physical pain. Muscles trembling with effort, she fights against the hold, snarling as it only tightens. He doesn’t let up. Instead, the dark tendrils slither ever higher, around her waist, up her torso, along her throat. The ache inside intensifies and what was intended as an angered roar turns into a wail.

“Surrender and I will give you what you want.” The voice is a growl at her neck, seductive words with a menacing sound. Her answer is a roar of anger, another fit of resistance at the aggravating suggestion to give up, but underneath him, she’s not gong anywhere.

She stills, a pained groan slipping past her lips as her body trembles uncontrollably with unrequited need and hunger.

“Shh,” he soothes, carefully closing in until she feels the warmth of his breath against her skin.

“You will have all you want if you just surrender.” The words sends a rush of air along her jaw. A ghost of a caress that resonates with familiarity in the vast empty halls of her infuriated mind. The anger quells in astonishment at the blinding spark it triggers and the Mara stills. Then warm lips connect with the skin on her neck.

Pleasure shoots through her bloodstream, blinding and hot as it coils in her gut. Gasping at the instant pleasure Lil opens her eyes.

“Good,” the voice near her ear rumbles, “come back to me, Lil.” His lips inches closer, his breath tickling her skin. Her breathing hitches and her heart hammers in her chest. She closes her eyes, anticipating the next caress.

Altair stalls. Only his breath lingers, brushing down her throat with each slow and deliberate exhale. Lil grows desperate underneath him. The need to feel the light is frantic; an all-consuming, famished desperation that she needs his help to mend.

Arching her back, she angles her head and bares her throat.

“P-please, Altair,” she whimpers. “Pleeease!”  

The dark tendrils swaddles her like a child then and his lips return. She can barely breathe as they connect, as stubble scrapes along her jaw, as his tongue laps at her pulse and _sucks._

His teeth sinks through her skin. That first pull of her blood is exhilarating and heady, a pledge of imminent pleasure that sure as well delivers when the pull of blood reaches her core.

A rush of exhaled breath shoots along her jaw with a groan. That gorgeous sound, low and rumbling and suppressed; that proof of excitement, does it for her. More than anything, that’s what makes the light within her burst. She goes pliant underneath him, excitement sparking beyond measure at the sounds he makes and shuddering in sheer _relief_ as the light starts flooding back into her soul while he feeds.

The surge of light is _delicious_ and _warm_ and _bright_ , but by now, Lil knows it could be stronger. That although his teeth, sunk into her neck makes the sensation more intense, more direct, what it provides is a substitute; a delicious, non-touching caress at her unspoken request. What really made the light surge was the total; his care and close proximity, the pull of her blood and the friction... She craves to see what limits there are, whatever the cost. Realizing what that means hits in equal measures of desire and foreboding just before she soars.


	20. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving forward, Lil starts to discover what powers she posesses.  
> (Sorry for the short summary, it's late and I have work in the morning. Just wanted to get this posted.)

# Progress

The nightly walks continues over the next few days. Malik and Altair escorts Lil outside every night when dinner has finished. Every night, as dinner comes to a close, dread sits as a tight knot in Lil’s gut. Even if Malik assures her she’ll eventually get a hang of this and Altair claims she’s making progress, to Lil it doesn’t seem to get much better. The constant flow of impressions force their way into her system and grounding herself demands a lot. Moreover, they stay outside a little longer each night with the purpose of wearing her out. If she’s making progress, she does not feel that way. She ends up just as empty every night before they take her back inside.

There, Altair takes her to his room and puts her through the drill of restraining the feral instincts of her powers.

Lil fails spectacularly every time.

From the point when Altair shifts and the irresistible darkness that surrounds his altered self reaches for her, there are nothing but black holes in her memory.

When she regains her senses, she’s usually pinned to the floor or to the wall with Altair kissing her neck and the promise of pleasure coursing through her veins.

She should be frightened, and basically she’s terrified in the seconds when she loses control, but then Altair brings her back, and _God_ , what a way to come back.

There are no repercussions for her failures. Altair never abolishes her for being unable to resist, he just praises her every time she comes back and makes the light inside her soar.

The way he treats her, as if her altered state is no challenge to handle makes Lil feel safe. Altair’s never drops his vigilance, never seems to waver in his determination to protect her. For all the trouble she has put him through; is putting him through, it can only mean that she is worth the trouble. For the first time in years, Lil senses that she matters, that someone finds her existence important. When all but lost in pleasure she senses the repressed groan of pleasure he’s not able to contain, her mind reels at the realization that she’s _wanted_. A spark of hope ignites inside, something pure and frail that glows like an ember in her heart.

The nightly tests might leave her body bruised and battered, but her heart and soul are healing under Altair’s care.

Her relationship with Malik too is improving. He is less intimidating now she is cooperating and more forthcoming when she has questions.

Partially that stems from the fact that her questions are on topic.

He has offered to put another desk into the library, there is certainly enough space for it in the large room, but Lil prefers the informality and comfort of the window seat. Instead, she requests a notebook to pen down what pieces of information she finds. It’s easier that way, to glean insight, to string together information that is written between the lines.

The first pages are already filled with scribbles, short sentences and doodles in black ink; a jumbled depiction of her thoughts gathered between sleek, black Moleskin covers. As Lil settles it open on the small side table to start  working, Malik gives her notes a glance and frowns. Although he makes no comment, it is clear that he disapproves of the lack of structure. No question he has views on how to take notes properly and will instruct her to change her ways over time, but for now, he seems content to have her cooperating and chooses not to correct her shortcomings.

As he walks away, Lil contemplates the contrast between the content and cover, finding humor as she recognizes the abstraction of herself and Malik. While the content is a creative mess, the notebook itself seamlessly follows the ordered theme of the library, as if her notes are intended for a future on their shelves. Lil’s lips pulls into a faint smile. Then she lifts her gaze and finds the top shelves filled with similar volumes, several yards of narrow, black spines with no markings. There must be hundreds of them. Lil wonders who’s thoughts they might contain. Then Malik clears his voice and Lil gets back to work.

He expects more from her now that she’s committed to learn and pushes her further in her studies. They progress along the same path, Lil sifting through the texts Malik decides and Malik quizzing her perception and insight. It’s an efficient form of tutoring with Malik as her instructor. She’s never allowed to fall into placidness. Lil has sat a course of history a year before and parts of the texts are familiar, but Malik always have questions she doesn’t foresee, hints that sends her thoughts and ideas down new paths and makes her see things in a new light, granting a deeper understanding of how history is connected and how events came to be.

At the moment, she’s back, sifting through the first tome she received for what information she can find of the Sight. According to Malik, Norse mythology is one of very few sources where details of the Sight is out right described.

Lil has already gone through most of the section in the book that Malik pointed out. There are several hints in the text, but there are also plenty of inconsistencies. Lil glances down on her list. Odin’s Sight is the first one she found. It is primarily linked to four living beings, the ravens Hugin and Munin and the wolves, Gere and Freke, living beings that roamed the land and the sky. Their intelligence of what happened in the lands were the source of Odin’s all-knowing. The reference makes Lil sure this is a description of the Sight, but then there are the others.

Odin’s wife, Frigg, she’s not so sure about. The text describes how a falcon pelt makes Frigg able to travel the sky as a bird. A similar tale is written about Freya. She too owned a bird pelt that made her able to fly. However, what is confusing is the fact that Freya lends her falcon pet to Loki for Loki to travel to Outgard. Lil is not sure if the bird pelt is a valid reference to consider.

There isn’t much insight to be had from this one text alone. Moreover, the tome only refers to what’s written in other texts. None of the original texts are included, and it gives no insight to what is left out.

Lil, sighs as she rubs her eyes. There is still another hour to go before lunch. Her energy is slowly draining, but she tries not to pay it focus, having learned that distraction actually helps retain the light.

Steeling her mind, she stretches her back and her gaze falls back on the shelves lining the wall. What if she sought out another sourse?

“Malik,” she says. “Do you have any other books on Norse mythology?”

Malik looks up from his laptop, and a ghost of a satisfied smile graces his lips. Even if Malik’s strict personality moderates the emotion, a wash of praise radiates from him in a flash of warmth. Then he gets up and walks over to one of the shelves at the end of the room. His eyes searches the spines briefly before pulling out another large tome, but this one is almost brand new. Compared to the other one at least.

He brings the book over and hands it to her with an austere smile. Malik is so severe. The smile shines warmer in his eyes though. Malik is quietly pleased with her request and the warmth of his emotion washes over her yet again. Then, without a word, he goes to sit behind the desk again.

Lil flicks the new book open.

It is a study of the Edda, the main source of knowledge of Norse mythology written down in the 13th century. The book contains both a translation of the original text and a comparative analysis of each verse. There are also references and quotations of other concurrent Norse texts. A truly scientific approach to the subject.

Lil raises her gaze and watches Malik a moment, sensing this is just what he deems a book should be before setting to the task.

She flicks around randomly, reading a little here and there before settling on somewhere to start. Since what she’s after is not a topic she’ll find listed in the index, she starts with one that is. It’s just a whim that makes her seek out the passages that mentions Freya.

Freya’s scope is ekstensive. She gives and takes life, represent fertility and love, death and destiny through her ability to see and predict the future. So far, Lil has learned that Freya is the God of love, but that she is also a God of war comes as a surprise. All men that perish in combat passes on to Asgard, and these are divided in two fractions. Odin receives half, but the other half belongs to Freya. On the day of Doom Freya leads half of Asgard’s forces into combat.  

Once she gets going, Lil loses a bit of the focus as to why she’s reading, finding this text more interesting than what she’s read so far. Freya is described as the most beautiful of all the Norse gods and Lil mentally notes that several skirmishes between the Gods and the Jotuns are plots to capture Freya.

However, the Goddess is not that easy to get to. In addition to her forces, Freya’s house is protected by strong magic. Those who seek to harm her and those who are unworthy will find her doors locked and the house impenetrable. Any attempt at forcing a way in is futile.

Those Freya finds worthy though, will find Freya’s door open. The comparative analysis comments on Freya’s promiscuous disposition and the female position in pre-Cristian Norse society.  

Time flies when submerged in a capturing text. Lil has just penned down her latest thoughts, writing down ‘impenetrable’ as a fun fact, just as Malik flips the laptop shut.

“Lunch,” he proclaims and gets to his feet to wait for Lil as she finishes her note, flips the notebook shut, then marks the text and sets the books down in a neat stack on the nearby table.  

‘ _Magic_ ,’ Lil muses humoredly, ‘ _That would be a neat trait_.’

The kitchen is once again empty. Lil’s routines are kept separate from the others out of their safety and the vampires’ convenience. Over the span of a day, she usually just sees them during dinner, and that’s  fine with Lil.

She opens the fridge to scour some food, while Malik picks up a note resting atop an open cookbook, then studies the recipe marked down.

Lil has just decided to grab a glass of juice, a pear and a bowl of nuts when the distinct clink of heels signals a certain someone’s arrival. Lil’s mood falls.

She has no patience for the likes of Emma, and her temper bristles, willing the girl away. If it were up to Lil, she’d rather not deal with her at all. She closes the fridge and turns her back on the doorway. The clink of heels stops short of the opening, but another, softer step continues into the room.

Lil lifts her gaze meeting Farah’s brief smile, before Farah engages Malik in a discussion over the menu for tonight’s dinner. Lil flicks a passing gaze to the door and confirms Emma’s presence before ignoring her in favor of retrieving a glass from the cupboard. She pours the juice. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices how Emma shifts uneasily in the doorway.

Lil turns her head a fraction. Emma looks down at her feet puzzled, then lifts a foot as if to take a step into the room. Halfway through the motion, she freezes and puts her foot back down. Bewilderment is written across her face. Lil watches her perplexed, then as Emma raises her gaze, realizes she is staring. Emma straightens, then turns on her heel with a snort and paces away sharply.

Lil retracts her gaze, absentmindedly chewing a few almonds before washing them down with a swallow of juice. She takes a bite of the pear. Malik and Farah are still talking about dinner. Apparently, they are making arrangements to restock the fridge shortly, which leaves Lil to her own musings.

What on earth was up with Emma?

Lil could not help but feel as if something important ha just transpired. Emma’s bewilderment while watching her feet… As if she was having trouble walking...

 _Weird_.

Lil ponders the puzzle while she eats and by the time the pear is gone, an idea has formed inside her head.

It’s stupid. Impossible! And yet…

She flicks a gaze at Malik and Farah. They are just finishing up and if she is to try it, this might be her only shot.

“Malik,” she says levelly. “I’m just going to the toilet.”

Malik meets her gaze and nods.

“Go on,” he says. “I’m almost done.”

Their vigilance has dropped some, and she’s no longer shadowed everywhere. Now she hopes for a small window to test her crazy theory.

Outside in the hall, she can still hear the occasional click of high heels against the highly polished parquet flooring. As she steps out into the hall, Emma lifts her gaze, then turns her back to Lil, intently studying one of the large paintings lining the wall.

There will be hell to pay if Malik gets a notion of what she’s up to, but curiosity and spite has got the better of Lil. Concentrating on what she feels for Emma and willing her to leave, Lil walks calmly towards the toilet, watching the girl out of the corner of her eye.

At first, Emma just stands there, looking at the painting, but then it’s as if her shoulder tighten. She shrugs as if to brush off something, and Lil can see that she stiffens. Her body goes rigid, pushing against an unseen force as Lil approaches, and then suddenly the resistance caves. Emma’s feet seem to move against her will as she takes a few sideway steps away from Lil.

Lil drops the resentment and hurries into the washroom.

Her mind reels. Did she just mentally force Emma away? She did, didn’t she? It’s too weird; too far fetched to consider and still, Lil senses that she has stumbled upon something important.

It’s not something she can divulge, though. Malik would be angry that she betrayed his trust and none of the vampires would not approve of the way she found out. Moreover, her newly slackened restraints would surely tighten if they knew she’s able to affect Emma just by being in the same room.

When she exits the washroom, Malik is waiting. Emma is nowhere to see and Lil keeps her mouth shut.

\---

That night comes with another walk outside, down the gravel path that winds its way through the garden. Under a large oak tree beyond the orchard there is a small bench, a little love seat set among hydrangea bushes whose flowers have turned a sorry, withered brown with the frost. Lil takes a seat there, trying to relax and find some inner sanctity.

They’ve already been at it for an hour. Lil is cold, drained and a hair’s breadth away from her limits, but the vampires make no sign to go back inside any time soon.

By now, she knows better than to ask.

Keeping it together is a struggle; the wind brushes through the forest, draining all warmth from her limbs and though the frost quells some of the vibrancy, she still finds it too much to handle.

Closing her eyes, Lil draws a deep breath trying to ignore the small herd of deer that remains just out of sight; the smell of their coats and the mushrooms they chew a mix of rancid and rotten on the far side of overwhelming as she tries to find her center. As the particularly pungent odor of the buck hits her senses, Lil cringes, tries not to gag. She starts over, draws a shallow breath and focuses on her heartbeat as she slowly exhales. The vampires have fallen silent beside her, patiently giving her some leeway as she struggles.

She senses them there beside her, Altair’s aura of safety and protection, Malik’s grave reassurance. She draws another shallow breath, feeling their presence, the warmth of their bodies.

Her heart stills as she perceives the flow of life within their forms.

Within her, something relaxes; letting go the desperate struggle for control. Her muscles softens, the golden light within starts pooling out into every extremity.

Her breath is caught in her throat.

Warmth floods her being and the world changes before her inner eye when life itself makes it’s presence known.

Lil shakily inhales, lifts her chin and takes in the flowing force of nature, of the power that vibrates through it all as she connects with her surroundings. In that instant, everything seems to stop, seems to exist only as energy. Her heart recognizes her own willowy force alongside the tenacious will of century-old trees, the frail little lives of a litter of baby mice and the magical metamorphosis of a cocooned butterfly. Her circumference expands. Everywhere is _life;_ brilliant, beautiful energy. How did she not see it before? It’s still overwhelming, still vivid and wild and pulsing, but in a breathtaking, spectacular sense.  

Emotional, Lil opens her eyes and takes in the night, draws in this new world with all her newfound senses.

Then something stands out. Out there in the forest, beyond the vibrations of all of nature’s wild creatures, Lil senses something else. A small slither of darkness that is not part of the night. She draws a careful breath; turns her head in it’s direction. It’s familiar enough that she can identify it; one of the vampires is out there, in the woods. She can’t make out who it is, but it makes her curious, wary. It’s creepy knowing someone is stalking in the shadows and she can’t help but wonder why.

She lifts her gaze, notices Malik and Altair studying her closely.

“Who is out there?” she says. Altair lifts his head and casts his eyes over the darkened woods before fleetingly crossing a gaze with Malik.

“Evie is out for a moonlight stroll,” he says. “How did you know?”

Lil pauses, tests her reach while shrugging a shoulder in reply.

“Just sort of… sense her,” she says. Altair gives pause as his gaze lingers on her face.

“What else can you sense?” he says quietly.

Exploring the new skill is exhilarating, her cheeks glowing with warmth as she tests it.  She points them towards where the buck is stalking a trail after a doe, where a host of sparrows have bedded down for the night close to a bush of elderberries, witch ripe sent is cloying once she briefly loses focus. She tells them of the trees, of the dormant life of all the plants, nestled safely in their roots beneath the freezing earth.  Then she turns to the river, which thundering force all but takes her breath away when she hones her senses towards it.  

She draws a shaky breath. When she opens her eyes, The vampires are both watching her, Altair’s mouth stretched into a satisfied smirk barely visible through the darkness and Malik quietly content.

“Well done, Lilaea,” Malik says. Altair pulls her to her feet and puts his arm around her shoulder as they walk back to the house.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Did you know that Norse myhology was the source of inspiration for Tolkien's elves? That in Norse mythology Froy, Freya's brother is listed as the ruler of the elves?


	21. A new life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few more details of the plot are revealed. Happy holidays.

# A new life

_The city stretches out beneath her in a jumble of dirt-colored houses contained by a massive city wall. The light of the falling sun colors the buildings in a warm orange glow as the eagle sails gracefully forth and takes a perch atop a watchtower by what must be the main gate. There she watches the familiar figure of a lone rider approaching  in the distance. He dismounts outside the gate and leads the horse to a nearby stable where he haggles with the stable hand before paying for the horse’s care._

_He walks away, his gaze underhandedly following the guards, the thinning crowd of travelers filing through the gates and then studies the wall above. With a last glance at the guards, he slips behind the stable and disappears out of sight._

_Lil feels the bird’s heart flutter at her startled surprise as Altair scales the face of the wall in a matter of seconds. As he crosses the parapet, a shout rings out and then another. Then the wall seems to erupt in action. Altair speeds up, sprints across the wall and throws himself over the side and onto the nearest roof._

_The bird takes flight and follows as tthe trained warrior takes off again in a furry of white and red while knights in heavy chain mail picks up pursuit. Citizens scatter aside where the guards comes running. Altair jumps down in a crowded square, pushes through the crowd, then claims the high ground again; scales another wall and bolts across the roofs. He throws a glance over his shoulder and his lips curl in a derisive grin. Then he takes off in a new direction, leaps down in an alley, and loses his tail in the crowds._

_There, he disappears out of  her sight too. The eagle's hunger eventually overpowers her interest in following Altair and Lil leaves as he finds a furry snack and  starts to devour it within the confines of a bell tower._

___

She promised Malik she would not explore the Sight further and in truth, she has held to that promise. She never _intentionally_ seeks it out. What can she help it if at night, asleep she finds the path anyway?

If she disregards what role her curiosity plays, Lil feels almost no remorse. The temptation to learn more about Altair is just too strong.

She’s not really sure what she’s after. Some times, all she gets are short, uneventful sequences of everyday life; Altair sparring with another of the white-clad warriors, or stalking through narrow alleys of a darkened city, or climbing a tower. Other times, she sees events she makes no sense of; Altair is standing in front of an old man in black robes inside the fortress Malik called Masyaf, talking of an artifact  and it’s power to unite the factions of a war.

And then there are nights when whole movies are played out in length. A whole night she follows his travel through a dessert, through days of scorching heat and frostbitten nights under a sea of stars.

\---

_She finds him again when the day dawns, emerging from an underground passage near the harbor, his robes filthy and sprayed with blood and the dancer in tow behind him. She follows him reluctantly, her eyes burning with distrust and unease._

_He takes her to a safe house. The eagle rests on a protruding beam above the unglazed window, its hunger stilled and his focus under Lil’s command. She watches as Altair cleans up the dancer's wounds, then tends to his own injuries and the maintenance of his weapons._

_All the while, the hood covering his head stays in place. His features are lean and hard, his jaw set in a stern mask while he works._

_The dancer watches him verily from a corner._

_“We leave for Masyaf in the morning when things have quieted down,” he says._

_The eyes of the dancer seems to glow._

_“I will not be going with you,” she says, then looks away._

_The warrior pauses, flicks a gaze over his shoulder. Then he rises to his feet and faces her fully._

_“I was tasked with bringing you to Masyaf,” he says, “so I’m bringing you to Masyaf. We leave in the morning.”_

_A flicker of pain flitters over her features. Then she looks away._

_“You do not understand,” she all but whispers. Her lips draw up in a pained smile as she laughs harshly. “You cannot see.”_

_The warrior bristles before her. He’s not used to resistance, it seems. He draws breath to answer her, when she suddenly turns, her eyes blazing with anger._

_“I’m not going!”_

_Altair stiffens as the air trembles with an unseen force. The bird senses it crackle through the air and takes off, startled. Lil catches one last glance through the window as the bird takes flight, sees Altair lower his hood and hears the change in his voice._

_“Adah…” then the bird turns away._

_\---_

It does not take much to make the connection. Lil has seen enough movies, heard enough tales of hunts for the Holy Grail to gather that the artifact Altair seeks, this Chalice the old man spoke of, is actually the dancer. Lil has a strong suspicion she is a nymph.

Altair spends days and nights with Adah in that secluded house, works hard to win her trust. As her wounds heal, her eyes soften until they glow warm and bright with hope when she looks at him. Perched outside the unglazed Windows, or on a protruding beam above the open atrium Lil watches as distrust changes into respect, as respect grows into fondness and fondness evolves into love. She sees the hands of the trained warrior tenderly care for the battered dancer. She hears the female disclose the secret she bears, of the traitor in his organization. Lil watches them consummate their love by the warm glow of a dying fire, sees them plan a life together, away from the war. Lil shudders at the foreboding thrum underlying the vision.

\---

_The sun sets over the city of Jerusalem. After several nights spent there, Lil is well acquainted, finds the house among all the other houses, circles above it slowly._

_Beneath her on the roof, a white-clad figure is pacing. The restless energy that surrounds him is written in the set of his shoulders, in the tightened fists and the gaze that repeatedly returns to a point on the horizon._

_As the light starts to fall, he lowers his head, turns halfway to look across his shoulder at a disturbance in the atrium below, then crouches and drops to the lower level as gracefully as a cat._

_Lil makes her way to her usual perch on the beam. Underneath, in the atrium, Adah is putting down a basket, straightens to lower her shawl. She wears the robes of a common woman now, the brown, course textile takes nothing from her beauty. Altair pulls back his hood._

_“I need to go back,” he says._

_The words ignite the menacing hum in the air. Adah freezes mid step, watches him while a sting of despair flitters over her features._

_“I need to rid the brotherhood of this threat. I cannot leave knowing my brothers are at risk, allow the Templars this unchecked door. I have to deal with it, Adah.”_

_The woman says nothing. She just stares at him in disbelief and slowly shakes her head as if she doesn’t believe what she’s hearing._

_“Don’t…” she says faintly. “Please don’t choose this path.”_

_Uncertainty flitters across his features for a second and Lil is struck by how young he seems. Even though he possesses the latent strength and fluid movement of the skilled warrior, there’s a subtle softness to his features and an underlying hesitance Lil does not recognize in the vampire._

_As often in the young, uncertainty manifests in anger. Altair sighs heatedly, clenches his fists once._

_“I’ll come back,” he says. “Murdering a brother will get me banished from the brotherhood. I will put an end to the traitor and then return to Jerusalem. I'm back within a month and we’ll disappear.”_

_Her eyes are brimming with tears. “Don’t…” she breathes._

_His jaw clenches, a fire ignites in his eyes._

_“I will not abandon my brothers to this threat,” he growls lowly. “I swore an oath, Adah, and I intend to honor it.”_

_\---_  

Altair continues to draw her blood twice a day, maybe something she should question now the negative effect of the city is wearing off, but she doesn’t really want to. The bloodlettings has turned into milestones of her day, her fix of soaring light and the indulgence of the pleasure it presents.

Every night she sleeps tightly wrapped in Altair’s embrace, safe and content, awash in a golden glow and every morning, she wakes up to the warm and familiar scent of his body, to another bloodletting leaving her breathless and trembling before she heads off to the shower. It’s hard not to associate him with the way he affects her and the spark inside her heart grows to a flickering flame.

\---

Late fall is turning into winter, the trees stretching naked and frostbitten fingers towards a pale blue sky. Lil is in the conservatory every morning, and even if the temperature inside is mild, she recognizes the increasing chill outside by the change in the light and the stiffening movement of the surrounding vegetation. She has lost count of the days she’s been here, the first days of exhaustion and panic something she’d rather forget and the days thereafter a peaceful reprieve that makes one day blend into the next.

Her day begin after breakfast with an hour spent meditating and relaxing in the conservatory. According to Malik, spending time there is good for her, and Lil is starting to see that he is right.

There is an energy here within the lush greenery that grow outside of season behind the shelter of large glass planes. When she digs her fingers into the soil, she can feel it prickle against her skin.

She sits on the ground, her eyes closed and reaches out with her own energy, feels it extend into the soil and the surge of answer from the plants, as if their living energy becomes aware of her presence and turns towards her. It’s pleasant and fulfilling in a new and different way and Lil cannot refrain from playing with the new gift.

Malik spends the hour she’s in the conservatory in meditation, but every once in a while she feels the weight of his gaze upon her. Whatever he does, he is still keeping an eye on her and what she’s doing.

Right now however, he is deep in thought as if distracted with something else. It makes no difference. Lil is content to just sit here with her eyes closed and feel the energy ripple and play.  

As she breathes out, the connection with her surroundings opens and suddenly everything hums with energy. The sun is shining, and even if it’s the middle of winter she senses how the plants drink the rays just like they draw water from the soil.

She digs her fingers a little firmer into the ground, finds the vibrating energy there and latches on with her own. Like golden threads the energy winds through the capillaries of the nearby bush. She’s not really supposed to do this, but it’s too tempting not to test it out and soon she feels as if the small rose is an extension of her own self and wonders what more she can do.

She makes the plant drink deep, hones her energy into one of the branches. The plant seems to freshen up, the branch straightens and the leafs perk up. Before she knows it, a flower bud is sprouting from the tip. Fascinated, Lil watches the thing grow with unnatural speed. Soon the salmon-pink petals of a filled rose are spreading a sweet and rather citrusy fragrance to the air.

Her energy ripples inside. This feels so right, as if it’s what she’s meant to do. Her power seems to grow from using it this way too, as if sharing makes it multiply, not deplete it.

Contentedly, Lil leans forth and draws in the smell of summer on the rose.

When she straightens, Malik is standing right beside her, watching. It startles her, the way he has suddenly moved without her notice.

“Please tell me when you try out new stuff,” he says. “I need to make sure you don’t wear yourself out.”

Lil flicks him a guilty look.

“Sorry,” she says. “But it isn’t draining me, Malik. If anything, it gives me more energy.”

Malik gives her a long look, and then he crouches by her side.

“That might be so,” he says, “but you did not know that when you tried. I want to know when you test your abilities, Lil.”

Lil looks down at her hands, brushes the dirt off them as her jaw clenches. The level of care he takes is sometimes smothering, and she’s not sure she’ll ever get used to it.

“Fine,” she says dejectedly. “I’ll let you know next time.” Malik sort of snorts and when she shoots him a surprised look, Lil finds his face set in an unamused frown.

“I’ll believe that when you start owning up to that promise,” he says. Then he gets back to his feet and goes back to his seat.

“Another quarter left,” he says and then he falls silent.

Lil puts her hands down in her lap, closes her eyes and turns her face into the sun. She is slowly learning to channel the energy, to soak up the brilliant sparkles of sunlight that trails across her skin and store it as her own supply. She’s rarely ever hungry anymore, and although Altair insists she keep eating at every meal, Lil rarely feels the need to. With what energy he provides and what she is able to get herself seems enough to sustain her.

A bubble of laughter draws her from her reverie and Lil opens her eyes and turns towards the garden. In the distance, Molly and Farah comes walking down the gravel path, chatting and giggling, obviously in a good mood. Their faces are bright and fresh from the cold, with pretty roses on their cheeks. Lil watches them and wishes she could go for a stroll in the fresh air as well.

The pale sunlight stretches it’s long fingers through the trees, daces over the two emerging figures. Molly throws her head back in a fit of laughter, and for a short while, the light illuminates her features.  She seems to glow as the sunlight dances across her skin. Lil watches her distractedly. Molly is beautiful, a round face with pale, clear skin and soft, regular features surrounded by glossy Auburn hair that trails down her back. She is more beautiful than Lil has realized from the short encounters during dinner and everyday life in the vampires’ mansion. Maybe it’s because she’s smiling? Then the girls round the corner of the building and disappears out of sight.

It occurs to Lil, she can’t remember ever seeing Molly smile. She can’t really remember actually seeing Molly all that much at all. Connor and Molly mostly sit at the end of the table during dinner, at an angle where Connor’s huge form completely screens Molly from Lil’s view. Moreover, Molly seems to avoid Lil whenever Lil is around.

Lil puts the thought to rest and turns back to enjoying the sunlight.

\---

By the end of another day, Lil is looking forward to the evening. It’s movie night and the girls are choosing. They’ve opted for Lord of the Rings on several occasions, witch Lil loves, but the guys have so far refused. Now they have finally relented and the group have settled on seeing the whole thing, including the prequel; The Hobbit, which Lil has not yet seen.

At dinner, the mood is high. For once Molly and Connor has taken seats across the table from where Lil is sitting between Altair and Malik. Lil watches her guardedly; the girl is still jumpy around Lil even if Lil has never done anything to make it so.

The slight sheen is still there, emanating off Molly’s skin in a faint glow under the candlelight. Lil studies her curiously out of the corner of her eye. Suddenly the light flickers, a spark that calls to her with familiarity and realization hits in an instant. She has felt the same in seeds resting under the warm soil of the conservatory. A spark of new life.

Lil draws a sharp breath in surprise.

All of a sudden, everyone’s eyes are trained on her. She’s staring at Molly and the girl pales on the other side of the table.

“You’re pregnant…” The words slips from Lil's lips breathlessly and then all hell breaks loose. Connor slams a hand down on hte table as he gets to his feet. In a flash, Altair shoves her chair back form the table, sending her sailing back against the wall. Connor jumps across the width of the table, looking dead set on claiming her life. Altair and Malik are on their feet in perfect unison, stepping in front of Lil and grabbing ahold on Connor and stopping his onslaught.  

Connor’s blazing gaze is locked on her, his teeth bared in a snarl that freezes the blood in her veins. 

“You stay away from her, you hear!” he growls and throws his weight against the two vampires holding him back.

Lil scuttles backward, away from the beast now trying to get his hands at her. A startled shriek escapes her mouth when for a moment it seem as if he’s going to force his way past. Then Altair regains his footing. With a force that shakes the floor he, throws Connor onto to the table so that crystal and cutlery flies in every direction.

Connor bellows and fights against Altair’s grip.

“Stand down!” Altair growls. There is a gleam of metal in his hand, a blade pressed against Connors throat. Connor is rigid in his grip.

“Right now, you are the one risking your unborn child, Connor,” Malik says quietly. “Molly doesn’t need you upsetting her like this. You need to take care of your girl and stop scaring her to death.” A tremble passes through Connor as he restrains his anger. Then he lets go the grip on Altair, raises his hands in surrender. Slowly Altair lets go and Connor gets back on his feet.

Lil is shaking like a leaf, panic still clawing its way up her neck where she’s pressing herself against the wall as if there was a way to get through it to escape. Connor turns and walks out the door without a word or a glance her way. Molly has already left the room and Lil can hear her quiet sobs coming from the hallway.  

She feels sick with fear as Altair turns around and finds her pressed against the wall. Then he walks over and pulls her into his arms, splays warm finger against the base of her skull.

“It’s all right,” he coos quietly.

As much as Lil wants to hear those words, this time they are not true. She can’t settle down, not even within his embrace.

“No,” she says. “No this is not OK. Not at all!”

Altair lets up on the tight embrace, to look at her. Then Malik too comes into view. They both look puzzled at the forcefulness of her statement, of what exactly she means.

“Does he think that I would endanger the life of their unborn child; that I would stoop so low as to harm an innocent life?” Angry tears are brimming in her eyes. Now she gets why Molly pales every time Lil’s attention strays her way.

“Lil-,” Malik starts in a disarming way and Lil can’t handle that.

“No!” She says vehemently, and frees herself from Altair. She will not stand for this. Not another second!

“Connor,” she bellows as the tears stream down her face. “Connor, you get your ass back here you _f_ _ucking_ coward!”

Altair startles and grabs her arm in a vise. Both he and Malik growls at her in anger.

“Are you insane, girl? What the hell do you think you are doing?”

Then Connor steps into the room, and Lil nearly balks at her own decision.

Connor’s eyes glow with fury as he bares his fangs at her and _sneers_. His hands are twitching at his side as if he would like nothing better than to wrap them around her throat.  Altair stiffens at her side and Malik takes a step forward to block the way. Lil swallows before finding her voice again.

“I would never, _ever_ harm your child!” she says.

Connor just snorts in contempt and is about to turn around and exit.

“Get her out of here,” Malik snarls with an angry glare her  way and Altair’s grip tightens as he starts to drag her towards the library. Lil can feel her energy falling. She knows this conflict will only get worse if she can’t find a way to end it. There is only one way to achieve that.  She digs her heels in and shouts after Connor.

“Wait! If you don’t believe me, then see for yourself. Read my mind and see what you find.”

“Enough, Child,” Malik growls, and Lil shivers at the ice in his voice.

The room grows silent. Connor ignores her completely, his gaze passing her by as he watches Altair for acceptance of the unspoken question. It’s a tense few seconds before Altair speaks. When he does his voice has the edge of a newly sharpened blade. 

“You harm her," he growls lowly, "I will repay you twice over, Connor.” Connor meets his gaze levelly..

“Understood,” he says and then he crosses the floor and his gaze shifts to her. Altair lets go and then Connor wraps her under his will.

She is completely locked in place and fear lases up her spine as Connor gently grips her jaw. The corner of his lip curls derisively.

‘ _I have nothing to hide’,_ she tells him.

‘ _We’ll see,’_ his thoughts answers With disinterest, and then he sets to searching every corner of her mind. Lil tries not to resist him even if he invades the most private parts of her memory. Whenever he senses hesitation, he brushes her aside and pushes forth. As he still finds nothing, she senses irritation growing in the way the search turns restless.

The intrusion takes its toll. There are things in her past she wants to forget, but Connor leaves no stone unturned. Her inner light is starting to drain away. She is so tired of being mistrusted, so drained, the tears that started in fear and anger continue painting wet trails down her cheeks in sheer fatigue. Lil draws a ragged breath, insistent on hanging in there until Connor is satisfied.

 _‘Do you see?’_ her mind asks him. _‘There is no ill intent here, Connor.’_

The spark of anger that runs through the bond startles her and then Connor grips her throat. Her breathing is cut off and the blood to her brain slows. Panic grips her heart. She doesn’t want to die, she’s not ready to die is all she can think.

And still, underneath the pandemonium that ensues, Lil understands. Connor will do whatever it takes to keep his child safe, and she respects that.

Just when she thinks she’s going to black out, the grip on her throat is torn away and the hold on her mind falters. Lil drops like a sack to the floor and heaves for air, coughs violently as her throat burns.

There is a fight going on nearby; a fight for life and Death. Lil panics at the pressing need to make them understand.

“Altair,” she wheeses weakly, “Altair, s _top!”_ Her throat burns and she coughs again _,_ before pressing her voice to the limit.

“ _Altair_ , it was a _test_!”

The commotion at the end of the room stops. Lil rolls to her back and concentrates on breathing, registers the angered words exchanged not far away, but tunes it out now they aren’t trying to kill each other.

It’s hard to breathe, pain sits like a band of red hot iron in her throat. Every time she inhales, the pain _flares,_ cutting her breath short and resulting in a coughing fit, only to start again when she draws another breath.

A pair of feet comes walking at a brisk pace to her side and barely stops to scoop her from the floor before carrying her from the room. Malik is making sure she is excluded from the settlement of the conflict. He takes her to the kitchen where he sets her down on one of the barstools. Then he goes to the fridge and comes back with a glass of water. He waits while she drinks, the pointed silence underlining the anger that rolls off him. Lil takes a careful sip. The cold water burns in her throat, but seems to alleviate some of the pain, and with the familiar sparkles of energy trailing from her gut and out into her extremities, the light stops draining.

Her throat still hurts, though, and when Malik wraps a palm against her sore skin, Lil startles.

“Hold still,” Malik commands. The tone is harsh and unyielding. Lil stiffens and balks from meeting his angered gaze. She has stepped over more than a few lines tonight and Malik is livid. He is restraining his ire, but the energy of it pierces through her soul.

Under his palm, a warm sensation spreads across her skin and throughout the sore flesh. It starts to itch and prickle like a bitch, but the pain gives way and her breathing soon eases. When Malik lets go, her throat is still tender, but infinitely better.

“Thank you,” she says with a raw voice and braves looking at him for the first time. The gaze she meets is hard as flint. Her eyes widen in trepidation.

“You will never do a thing like that again, _Ever_.” Malik says lowly, his voice vibrating with vehemence. “Do. You. Understand?”

“Yes,” Lil croaks. “Yes, Malik, I-I understand.”


	22. Penalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stepping across the line has consequnses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, and it's just been a week! A littel self-indulgance during the holidays, that turned out much longer than intended. And the best part? I have even started the next one. Enjoy the rest of the holidays!

#  Penalty

  


The morning sun finally floods the conservatory where Lil is impatiently pacing up and down the central isle, restless to replenish her store of golden light after a night of fitful sleep and an all too early morning. 

Last night, after the incident at dinner, Malik took her to Altair’s room and demanded that she change for bed. It was just a little past nine in the evening, but after what happened, Lil dared not refuse. 

When she returned, a strict and stony-faced Malik informed her that failing to comply direct instructions had consequences; that for the next twenty-four hours she is banned from any kind of physical contact with anyone.

Indignation burns hotly in her chest at the memory. She did not consider herself a member of their hierarchy; that she would have to follow instructions as if they were orders and she did not anticipate that they would deprive her from the means of replenishing the light inside. 

She’s cross with herself for that gullible notion, for not recognizing her own position at the bottom; angry that they placed her there without giving her a choice of joining at all. More than anything, she’s angry that she’s become dependent of the daily fixes of energy. She willfully ignores that the distress she feels stems from having to manage without Altair and the fix he usually provides. 

Even sleeping without him proved difficult. Malik changed the bedding while she was in the bathroom and there was’nt even the scent of Altair to comfort her.

The light gradually grows as the sun rises above the treetops, the rays soon covering her whole figure. Lil restrains a sigh. She hurts for Altair, for his close embrace and the comfort it represents, but she’s loath to let Malik know just how much the punishment stings. 

Instinctively, she knew she’d feel hunger for the golden energy, expected that to be her punishment, but that the absence of energy would result in physical unease was a detrimental surprise. During the night, it started as an undefinable ache in her joints, leading to hours of tossing and turning in fitful sleep until the early hours of pre-dawn when the ache grew into a searing pain that flickered and burned in her bones. 

Since then, she has been pacing the conservatory, waiting impatiently for the sun to rise and alleviate her ails with golden fingers.

Lil draws a shuddering breath, soaking up the glimmers on her skin, letting them trickle down to settle with her meagre reserves. Her heart settles and the fatigued stiffness in her limbs from warding off the ache in her bones lets go. 

Slowly, she drops to her knees, digs her fingers into the cold, damp earth and draws on her power, feels the glimmer of recognition from the roots of the plants and the rush of golden warmth as their energy answers. 

The sun makes all the difference, she muses. She understands more of her power now than she did last night, but it came at a tough price. 

When the ache of her bones became too much, she knew the remedy lay in the conservatory; the only way she’s been able to replenish the energy herself is through the plants. However, when she dug her fingers into the earth an hour before sunrise, there was no energy there to gather. The plants were sleeping. The pain flaring through her bones when she tried anyway is nothing she wants to experience again. 

She shudders a sigh of pure relief as the last remnants of pain drowns underneath a surge of warmth and distantly registers Malik’s feet coming to a halt by her side. Closing her eyes, Lil ignores him and relishes her reserves regaining strength as life surges forth through the bond, clear and strong and jubilant.

When she’s finally had her fill, she comes too sitting on her knees, her finger dug deep into the dirt and breathing deep. Her hair has come lose from the tie, fans over her shoulder and down her back in soft waves. Beside her, the shrubs are all in full bloom as if at the height of summer.

Malik has taken a seat on the ground before her, watching her closely as she draws a steadying breath while the light inside her settles.

“How do you do that?” he says, inclining his head in the direction of the opulent display of flowers blooming in the middle of winter.

Lil does not feel inclined to answer, however; defiance will only confirm the toll the punishment is causing her. She’s not sure her pride could take that, so she brushes off the ire and tries not to let it color her words when she answers.

“I just sort of… reach for it, with my power.” She flicks him an uncertain gaze, unsure if he will understand. Malik gravely waits for her to elaborate.

“They answer… and I am able to connect with their energy and channel more through their foliage from the sun.”

“You use the plants as a conductor, a means to amplify the energy from the sun?” Malik says and his eyes gleam with attention. Approval washes over her, and Lil has to take a steadying breath before she nods. She wonders briefly if Malik does not realize that his approval is like a physical caress to her, or if he actually allows it to wash over her on purpose. Malik considers her confirmation, lost in thought for a few seconds before his eyes gain clarity and his focus settles back on Lil. 

“Last night,” he says, “how did you know Molly was pregnant?” Lil swallows dryly. How will he react when she explains? She hitches a shoulder and averts her gaze.

Malik’s brows knit together minutely and Lil knows she will not get away with a diversion.

“I sensed it,” she says quietly, bracing for his reaction when she jumps into the truth. “There is an energy surrounding her, a spark I’ve sensed before in seeds resting in the soil.” She lifts her gaze and meets Malik’s unreadable expression. “There is a new life growing within her. When I made the connection, it just made sense.”

Malik’s gaze narrows. 

“You sensed the child’s life within her from across the room?” he says and there is an edge to his voice that was not there before. Lil averts her gaze.

“Not within her,” she says reticently, “It was more like a spark on her skin.” 

Malik absentmindedly rubs a hand over his jaw. Lil gets the impression his mind is working ferociously. She brushes dirt off her knees while she waits; a distraction of her thoughts and the unease gathering in her gut. Then Malik gets to his feet and Lil follows his example without a word, feeling as if she is six years old and standing in front of the Principal. 

“Aside from Altair, you will not mention this to any of the others,” Malik says sternly. “Do you understand?” 

Lil nods solemnly. She has learned her lesson; recognizes the command for what it is. She will not brave his anger by disregarding it again. Timidly she meets his gaze and finds the onyx orbs gleaming with determination, but the ire she expected is not present. It surprises her, and Malik seems to catch on as his lip quirks minutely, but his eyes remains firm.

A short knock on the door breaks his attention. Whatever he was about to say is never said as Evie enters the room. “Malik,” she says. “You are needed.” 

“Fine,” Malik answers. “You take care of Lil, then.” Malik turns back to Lil.

“Remember what I said,” he says, and with a short confirming nod from Lil, Malik walks briskly from the room. 

When the door closes, Lil breathes a curt sigh.

“What,” Evie says and casts a curious gaze at Lil.

“I’m being punished for last night,” Lil says.

“What did you expect?” Evie says with a mild tone of abolishment.

“The problem needed addressing,” Lil says, “and I addressed it.”

“At what cost?” Evie says. “You could have been killed; Connor could have been killed. The problem needed addressing but it was Altair and Malik’s responsibility, not yours, Lil.” 

Somehow, Lil feels even worse when Evie agrees with Malik. Feeling embarrassed, Lil fidgets with her sleeve and looks away.

“You need to accept that you are not at liberty to make decisions that puts your safety at risk,” Evie continues in a softer tone and Lil lifts her gaze and gives her a pained look. Evie gives her a reassuring smile.

“Come on,” she says. “I have something planned to keep you occupied through the day. I promise, it won’t be that bad.”

\---

After a quick breakfast, and a short stop by the bedroom to put on a nice thick sweater, Evie takes Lil to the back of the house to what once used to be the service stairs and they climb to the very top.

“I thought we’d have a rummage through the attic,” Evie says. “There are quite a few quirky bits and pieces here and maybe even a few treasures, if you care to look.”

Lil has never been in an attic before, never lived in a house where there was access to one, but she’s been to quite a few thrift shops and antique fares and everything in between. She gives Evie a grin in anticipation as Evie opens the double doors and step into the room.

The attic covers the old part of the mansion and consists of what must be more than 6000 square feet of storage space and several hundred years of gathered artifacts under a high lofted roof. 

The space close to the stares is holding a selection of old furniture, carefully covered by dustsheets and neatly stored in the dry, cold space. The old wooden floorboards creak as they wind their way between the relics, turning up some of the dust to float weightlessly through the space.

Evie draws off a couple of dustsheets, showing Lil a beautiful writing table with inlays of exotic woods and mother of pearl that depicts a hunting scene and an ornate, plush covered sofa, worn down to it’s interlining on the armrests and stuffing peeking through the tears in the seat. 

“A sorry thing, isn’t it?” Evie says with a humored smile. “Jacob has a hard time letting it go. I thought I made him get rid of it years ago, but here it is, sitting quietly in the attic. He thinks I don’t know.”

It is a sorry piece; it’s magnificently wrought edges of the soft sweeping of the armrests and the high back matted and the deep red plush faded and torn.

“You could have it reupholstered,” Lil says pensively. Evie frowns in thought. “I mean; it is a beautiful piece and if your brother loves it…”

“You know, that is actually a great idea,” Evie says. “In fact, that’s why I wanted to go up here in the first place. The holidays are approaching fast, and I’m looking for something of a gift for Molly, but maybe this could do for Jacob.”

“Oh,” Lil is taken aback. She has not spared the holidays a second thought, and the idea of the upcoming festivities is a little daunting. She has no means to find gifts for everyone, let alone the liberty to go anywhere there is anything to buy. Her face must have dropped, because Evie rushes to reassure her.

“Oh, Lil! Don’t look so downcast. Christmas is a festive season. It will be fun, I promise.”

Evie thinks Lil is dreading spending her first holiday without her family, but nothing could be further from the truth. When she stays silent, Evie inquires further.

“Tell me what’s the matter, Lilaea, and I’ll see if there is something I can do,” she says.

“I have no way to get anyone gifts,” she says. Evie’s face brightens in a wide smile.

“Then there is nothing to worry about. We all cooperate on finding one gift from all to each of us. Sometimes it’s something nice and other times it’s something funny. After a few hundred years, you figure out that objects carry little value. Really, Christmas here is more about spending time together savoring good drinks and food, than anything else. And of course, the decorations.” Evie grins. “Malik’s been protesting it every year, but ever since Farah came into his life he has grudgingly accepted that it is bound to happen. Now we get to put up whatever we choose, as long as we contain it to the large drawing room. It’s going to be magnificent, just wait and see.”

Lil can’t help but smile at Evie’s reassurance.

“Come on. First, we need to find the decorations.” 

Evie takes her further into the attic, rummages through a section of boxes and takes the once she wants to the stairs. Lil peaks into one to find it full of spruce garland tipped with fairy-lights. Another box is full of fragile antique glass bulbs in soft pastels and bright colors. Then Evie calls her over.

“Would you mind bringing that box?” she asks and points to a carton with a green garland peeping out the top whilst hefting up another large box herself. 

Lil goes to pick it up. The low sun is stretching pale fingers into the room through the half lunette window that graces the gable. Lil casts a gaze outside at the pale winter sky. As she turns to pick up the box, the ray of sunlight gleams off something stuck between the floorboards. Curious, she sets the box aside and crouches down to investigate.

“Evie,” she calls over her shoulder, “did you know there is something stuck between the floorboards?” 

Evie comes over and Lil moves aside to give Evie some space. Evie holds a puzzled look as she peers down at the crack and the narrow object hidden there. Then her face cracks as her eyes start twinkling with amusement. She determinedly flicks a dagger from somewhere on her waist and pries it between the floorboards. The wood creeks in protest, but the nails give and the board comes loose. Lil stares at the, piece of wood and the four-inch hand-wrought nails that Evie pried up with no effort at all. The strength required to do that with no other aid than a dagger is not human and again, Lil is reminded of who she is dealing with. 

Evie’s low, thrilled chuckle draws Lil back to reality. Evie has not noticed her alarmed silence as she holds up something narrow in the light.

“Would you look at that,” she says and flicks the ting over to study the backside. “I wonder who’s this is… - and how it ended up here.” Then she hands it over to Lil.

In her hand rests a knife with a flat iron handle and a blade that grows wider towards the tip before tapering into a sharp point. Darkened by age the metal looks dull, but the surface underneath is smooth and the edge is still sharp. Along the handle, fine groves has been put in as an embellishment in some form of symbol.

“What is it?” she says and hands the knife back to Evie. 

“It’s a throwing knife, and an old one at that,” her eyes find Lil and gives her a meaningful look; “even by my standards.” Her grin widens mischievously. “This might do as a present too, if we can find out who’s it is.”

Lil gives her a smile. She is beginning to see how the gifts work, that an element of surprise and the story behind the thing means more than the item given. It makes for a nice change, something that makes Lil start to anticipate the day with a warm feeling inside. 

They take the last box of Christmas ornaments to the top of the stairwell and Evie puts down the knife with the rest of the stuff there, before she straightens.

“Well, enough of that,” she says, “now to the fun part.”

She takes Lil along the clear central path, all the way down to the end, where several old cotton wardrobe bags are hanging from the rafters. 

“This is my section of the attic,” she says. “Some of the nick-knack I have collected over the years are stored here. The other girls have been through these before and insisted that you would enjoy it too.” She moves toward the nearest bag, zips it open and uncovers the dress inside. Then she steps aside and watches Lil tentatively. 

Lil has a hard time finding her breath. Before her hangs a pristine, early Victorian dress in green satin silk that shimmers in black and gold under the low winter sun. The off-the-shoulders neckline dips down in the front and follows the edge of the shoulder elegantly. Lil is stunned. She steps forward to look at the delicate details, the flowery rosettes and the ruching that lines the edges, made up of the same material and held in place by minute stitches.

“Did you wear this?” she finally manages breathlessly and looks at Evie.

“I did, yes, and hated every minute of it,” she answers with a half-smile.

“But, why? It’s gorgeous, Evie!” Lil can’t fathom anyone not feeling spectacular in a dress like that.

“Because corsets are absolute murder,” Evie laughs, “trust me; you’d hate it too if you were forced to wear one every day.”

She flicks her gaze appraisingly over the dress and sighs.

“But you are right; it is gorgeous.” Her eyes contentedly falls back on Lil. “Do you want to see the rest then? I have to look for something and it might take a while.”

Lil is left to her own devises as Evie starts looking through old boxes. Solemnly she wraps up the first dress before equally in awe uncovering the next; a royal blue velvet ensemble with three quarter length puffed sleeves and a narrower skirt. With it, there is a small round bag with a large tassel hanging underneath.

Evie throws a glance over her shoulder.

“That one represents another sort of unease; imagine wearing a large, stiff pillow over your bum. Impossible to slump down in a nice recliner wearing that, I tell you.”

Lil grins amused and wraps up the dress, then moves on to the next. A summer dress this time, pale blue muslin with a tape-lace over-dress that gathers the flowing skirt close to the body. The waist is impossibly narrow and the dress looks as if it’s barely been worn. 

Evie doesn’t even raise her gaze when she comments.

“Imagine eating anything at a party wearing that,” she says. “I wanted to murder my brother the one time I wore it.”

Lil chuckles.

“So you collect the dresses you used to hate?” she says. Evie lifts her gaze and looks at her pointedly.

“No darling,” she says. “I hated all dresses back then.” 

“Then why did you keep them?”

Evie shrugs. 

“They are pretty,” she says, “and after a few years, they bring in a buck or two when you sell them.”

“Oh.” Yes, Lil can imagine these dresses bringing in some coin; museums would fight to get their hands on items like these, not to mention private collectors with a taste for the Victorian era.

Lil continues down the row of bags, opening each one with ceremony to be awed by the beauty and the craft that has gone into making them. She’s just packing up a red silk taffeta evening gown from the late Victorian era, when Evie lets out an exited exclamation. 

“There, finally!” she says and comes walking into the light from a dusty corner. She holds a small box in her hand and sets it down before her feet as she sits down cross-legged on the floor. Lil sits down beside her and gives the box a curious glance. 

Evie flips open the lid and Lil realizes it’s a jewelry case, sectioned in several compartments and lined in soft, pink velvet. Evie picks up a matted, green ribbon and lifts it form the box. Suspended on the length of silk is a dark green gem set in a gold frame. 

“Is that an emerald?” Lil asks speechless.

“Mhm,” Evie says absentmindedly. “It will be Molly’s present. Do you think she’ll like it?”

The stone sparkles under the low light, it’s finely cut edges shining in an array of green colors.

“Who wouldn’t?” Lil says, and looks at the pea-size gemstone dangling under Evie’s hand, before shifting her gaze to the box.

“May I?” she enquires hesitantly. Evie hands her the box without a word, then continues to inspect the gift for imperfections or flaws brought on by time.

Lil gazes into the box. Most of the compartments are empty, but there are several silver rings, some set with onyx or other latter quality stones, some worn thin by years of use, some barely worn at all.

“There’s a compartment underneath too,” Evie says. “I think there are some pretty ribbons in there.”

Lil looks at the box, finds a small latch that fastens the upper tray and slides it free, then lifts off the top section. 

Inside are indeed a few lengths of ribbon. Lil pulls one out, afraid that time has rendered it as fragile as it seems. As the ribbon pulls free, something heavier shifts underneath the remaining ribbons and slides to the edge, unsettling the weight of the box and nearly toppling it off Lil’s lap. Surprised, she steadies the box, then searches the bottom for the cause. Her fingers find something cold and smooth and Lil pulls it out. 

It’s a necklace; a beautiful piece with iridescent, white stones set along a set of chains and gathered at the front with a central piece shaped like two dragonflies. The dragonflies are made up of clear, colored, enamel and look almost lifelike. From the central piece, a single white stone ;shaped like a drop of water is suspended on a thin chain. Lil holds the necklace up to the light. Several of the chains holding it together are torn, but the stones shimmer with a beautiful inner glow as she moves it through the light.

Beside her, Evie stiffens.

“Where did you find that?” she says.

“It was lying beneath the ribbons at the bottom of the box,” Lil says and hands it to her. “What is it made of?”

Evie drapes the necklace over her hand, holds it up as she wears an unreadable expression. As if she locks herself off.

“They’re moonstones,” she says. “I thought I got rid of it years ago.”

“It’s gorgeous. Why would you get rid of it?”

“It’s broken,” Evie says, “And it brings back some painful memories…” Evie folds the necklace into her hand and looks away. “It reminds me of the time when we lost our unborn child,” she says. 

Lil’s heart twinges in her chest.

“Oh, Evie I’m so sorry,” she says softly. Evie smiles faintly, but her gaze is miles away, somewhere in her past. Then she shrugs and raises her gaze. “It was a long time ago,” she says, “I was just surprised, it’s all. Don’t worry about it Lilaea.”

The Light returns to her eyes. “Oh well,” she sighs, before putting the necklace down with the emerald, “maybe now it can be put to good use.” 

She is putting on a brave face, but the wave of sorrow that washed through Lil with the reveal does not settle. Suddenly Lil feels cold. Outside the sun is passing behind the tree line and the sky is turning a pale yellow. Soon it will grow dark and it is too late to return to the conservatory. 

As they bring the boxes down to the large drawing room, the light inside her falls, just like the light outside is falling and when everything is finally brought downstairs, Lil’s joints are starting to ache.

Lil turns restless as Evie goes through the boxes, starting to unpack. She moves from one thing to the next, trying to find something to draw attention away from the growing discomfort, but nothing seems to help.

“Lil, is everything all right?”

Evie has halted unpacking and is looking at her with a concerned crease on her brow. 

“My energy is falling low,” Lil explains, halting in front of the pile of boxes. “Do you think we could find Altair?” she says hopefully.

“Altair is not here,” Evie says, “Jacob phoned yesterday and there were some things that needed addressing, so he and Connor left last night. They will be back before dinner.”

“Right,” Lil says both disappointed and a bit ashamed. She has not offered Jacob or Desmond a thought for weeks; even if she was the reason they left in the first place. Where did they go, and what were they doing all the time they were gone, she wonders briefly, before her aching joints overpowers the curiosity.

“I need something to drink,” Lil says.

\--- 

By the time wafts of dinner being prepared spreads through the house, Lil is close to tears. She has sought all the tricks she knows and managed contain what light was left when darkness fell outside, but now the ache in her bones are turning into searing pain.

There is really nothing she can do to make it better either; she has drained what was left of spring-water without effect and now she is pacing the floor like a trapped animal. Evie is following her with a concerned gaze. Then she sighs pointedly.

“Come on Lil,” she says and walks briskly from the room. Lil follows half a pace behind her down the corridor, through the main hallway and up to the door to the library. There she knocks once and opens the door without waiting for an answer. 

Malik and Altair are both turned towards the disturbance, apparently broken off in the midst of a conversation, but Evie does not care.

“I’ve had quite enough,” she says sharply. “She is in pain, Malik. If you don’t think she has payed her penalty, then you will be the ones who sees her suffer.”

Then she turns around, walks briskly out and closes the door behind her.

Lil turns around to face the two vampires. They are both watching her, awaiting an explanation.

“You are in pain?” Malik asks. Lil shifts on her feet, alleviating the searing sensation shooting up her leg, just to shift to back as the pain starts over again in the other leg.

“Yes,” she says.

The vampires cross a puzzled gaze. Lil couldn’t care less to their reaction; at the moment, controlling the pain takes all her energy and all her effort. Malik walks over.

“Where?” he says.

“Everywhere,” Lil says. She cannot stand staying still, decides she needs to move, but Malik grabs her arm and holds her still. He cups her jaw, runs searching eyes over her face, and his brow creases as he lets her go.

“Altair,” he calls quietly, and Altair steps over. She has dreaded facing him, to see his eyes blaze with anger and feel it turn into a wall that cuts her off from him. However when she fretfully meets his gaze, Altair’s eyes are firm, but there is no resentment there to trace.

“You stepped over a line, Lilaea,” he says. “Dealing with conflicts is neither your responsibility nor your prerogative. I need you to accept that.”

Lil’s lip is quivering, from fatigue and pain and emotional turmoil, but most of all from relief. Her eyes flood with tears that she willfully blinks away. Her voice will not carry, so she nods her head.

“If you do anything like this again,” Malik says, “know that there will be consequences, but for now I think you have learned your lesson.”


	23. The black of night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lil's perception changes, she is slowly coming to appreciate the care she's under and falling for Altair. As she grows stronger and settles down, her instincts sharpen.

# The black of night

The dining room bears no signs of last night’s fight; the table is restored to it’s usual position and the tablecloth is spotless, crinkle-free and set with gleaming crystal glasses.

If she did not know better, she would think nothing happened last night.

But something did happen and Lil soon learns the full damage toll of her transgression.

Emma is gone.

Apparently, the revelation of the more volatile side of the vampires’ nature came as a shock, shaking her to the core. While Malik took Lil away, Emma went hysteric, deciding her life was in danger and demanding that they let her leave. Nothing Ezio said could make her calm down or change her mind. In the end, he’d had to force her to sleep to keep her safe. He left during the night to take her home.

Ezio is still away, not yet returned from the trip.

Lil knows she should feel remorseful, but she can’t find it in herself to regret that Emma is gone. She’s not looking forward to facing Ezio, though. Thankfully, that will wait.

She does not share that thought, though, but quietly watches as Malik pours the drinks; another dark red wine of good vintage.

From the hall, she hears Molly and Connor approaching, and her heart sinks. Unconsciously, she seeks Altair’s side. He lays a reassuring hand at her back, just as Molly and Connor enter the room.

The transformation in Molly takes Lil aback, the straight posture and the determined step a profound change that makes Lil forget Connor completely. The reassured step doesn’t falter as her eyes land on Lil, nor does it stop until the girl is right in front of her. She’s a little nervous still, but determination shines from her eyes as she extends a hand.

“I’m Molly,” she says. “I think we started on the wrong foot. I’d like to change that.”

Lil brightens in a surprised smile.

 “I’d like nothing better,” Lil says and Molly’s face softens in relief before she nods in approval.

“Good,” she says. “And now Connor has something to say.”

She flicks a stern gaze across her shoulder where Connor’s burly form towers over her. For once, his attitude is somewhat sunken; sullen and morose as he steps to her side.

“Sorry,” he says reluctantly. “I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

Lil regards him timidly.

“And I should not have called you a coward,” Lil says. “Sorry about that.”

His gaze crosses with hers a second, disinterested and cool before he looks away. He knows she is no immediate threat to Molly; has come to terms with the fact, but for some reason, he still wants nothing to do with her. At least the aggression he had towards her is gone, and Lil breathes a little easier, even if she finds his reaction peculiar.

\---

The meal is a quick one. Whether arranged that way to avoid residual trouble after last night’s fight or in anticipation of lounging on the couch afterwards, Lil is not sure, but as soon as the girls have finished eating, their plates are tidied away. Then they move to the living room, taking the drinks with them and settle down on the large couch.

Lil takes a seat in a corner. Altair refills her glass, then hands it to her. She takes a sip, enjoying the warm notes of sun-ripened fruits and the hidden undertones attained from the earth and the rain that fed the grapes. If she draws her breath, she can nearly picture the red soil, feel the warm wind on her face and sense the heavy humid warmth of an Italian summer. She never knew wine could taste like this.

She’s just a little buzzed, the warmth derived by the drink blending with the light inside. A tingling heaviness is slowly dancing through her veins, but her mind is calm and sated.

Altair sits down by her side and then he casually drapes his arm over her shoulder and tucks her to his side, just as the movie starts.

A little surprised, Lil shifts timidly in her seat before settling into his embrace, leaning her head against his shoulder. When she chances a glance at him, his eyes glow warmly down at her and his lips curls into a shadow of a smile. Lil smiles shyly back in answer, then flicks her gaze away as her stomach flutters.

Across the room, Malik’s observant gaze is glowing with approval. She shirks away from it, seeking the comfort of Altair’s steady heartbeat. As if sensing her disquiet Altair bends down brushing his lips against her hair. Her eyelids droop lazily in pure contentment from the faint caress.

Nestling in the crook of his arm is cozy. The snug hold as his hand distractedly strokes her arm, comforting. Lil wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, just enjoying the relaxed embrace, his warmth and the wine. Once or twice he turns his head minutely, draws a slow breath as if smelling her hair. She can’t help but think his embrace tightens just a little, that the warmth that radiates off him turns just a shade stronger when he does. Inside her heart, a flame flickers to life.

Being close to him is turning strangely natural. Whenever she lets him closer or opens up to him, she feels better, her unease settling, the light inside her growing stronger and more stable. Thinking of it flusters her and makes her stomach flutter in all kinds of ways, but underneath the bashful awkwardness, being close to him; even in front of the others, feels right.

The sense of _right_ only deepens as Altair makes her light soar again that night.

Curled against him, sensitively aware of him; of the safe weight of his body, the warm scent that surrounds him and the dark essence only she percepts, Lil falls asleep; her power stronger than ever with the novel emotion playing in her heart.

Over time, she has come to suspect that her Sight is interlinked with her energy and that the sense is especially strong when the golden light flows strong. Therefore, a vision should not come as a surprise, but when she finds herself at the start of one, Lil is confused.

\---

_The world in which she finds herself is dark, the mind she senses ignorant, unfamiliar. It takes her a couple of seconds before she realizes it’s not a dream. When she does alertness sparks across the bond and the bird opens it’s eyes, bristles and tries to settle back down. The glimpse is just enough to determine her immediate whereabouts, settled on a perch looking down on a drenched and godforsaken back street. This is definitely not the Middle East. The climate is wet and cold, the buildings of a familiar make._

_Lil deliberates turning her back on this site, to go back to the real world and the warmth under the covers with Altair._

_Somehow she doesn’t. Somehow, she feels as if she needs to be here, wherever this is._

_She needs to find out._

_Lil pulls at the bird’s drowsy will, tests her strength against his unfamiliar one and the reluctance he feels against moving. Eventually he responds, bristling irritated as he stretches his wings._

_The surroundings comes into focus then, the sheen of lamplight on pavement glistening wetly. The noise of traffic nearby as the world gains clarity. Somewhere closer to her own time, then._

_Pulling forward the bird takes flight. A few of his friends startles awake and then sluggishly follow. Their black coats glisten in the dark as they take flight. Crows, Lil gathers. Smart birds, sharp-witted, perceptive. She pulls him higher, lets him climb on the winds blowing between the buildings until the roof scape stretches out underneath her._

_It’s a big city, American by the looks of it, and the cars are a common mix. Lights gleam as far as the birds eyes can perceive. From what she gathers, it is present time or close to it._

_Something churns in her gut, an uneasy feeling, as if something is not right pulling at her with a direction. Lil makes the bird turn back, sails lower across the darkened roofs in search. The anxious knot is growing, the air crackling with something she does not understand._

_Then movement catches her attention. On one of the roofs beneath her, something is huddled close to the edge. She tugs the bird in that direction, makes him sail closer on black wings without drawing attention._

_The shifting form turns human as the figure lifts his head, separating his form from the tarp covering him and some sort of rack set up by his side._

_What is he doing up there, in the black of night during a godforsaken downpour?_

_The tarp rustles quietly in the breeze. The bird is nearly by his side, when a gust of wind rises over the side of the building and the tarp is lifted up and away from the rack –_

_Shock lazes up her spine and the bird caws sharply._

_As the tarp slides off, Lil identifies the shape of a long-range rifle set on a tripod and aimed at the street ahead._

_Suddenly she recognizes this city, knows there is a little corner coffee shop in the distance; knows the source of her north._

_Panic grips her heart. She needs to get there, now!_

_She makes the bird trim his wings, speeding into a dive. Even before the birds eyes picks them out against the shadows, Lil knows who is there, sensing the familiar darkness before the figures are even taking physical shape._

_Time is running out with every beat of the birds heart. She senses the inevitable cataclysm crackles with menace through the air; feels the power of it rise and time run out like water between her fingers as she pushes the bird to MOVE._

_His instincts screams with flight as yet again he trims his wings and shoots towards the ground. Lil strains to urge him on, feels the speed increase. Then suddenly she seems to shoot forward, weightlessly beaming toward the ground, to the shadow of the building and the figures that melds into the dark._

_Her hands connect with the darkened figure, a millisecond she feels the cold wetness of drenched cloth against her palms, before a muted bang compresses the air and then her world explodes in blood and pain._

Lil screams.

The pain flaring through the bird ripples through her nerves as her senses are teeming with the metallic taste and smell of blood.

Altair is holding her to him, his embrace tight and firm as he coos soothing words into her hair. He doesn’t understand.

“He’s hurt,” she cries frantically. “He’s hurt, Altair; Desmond is hurt. They shot him!” Tears are streaming down her face.

Altair stiffens. He reaches for something on the nightstand and a stark white light goes on as the phone rings. Lil huddles against him crying quietly and seeking his comfort against the fresh ripples of panic that claw through her.

The ringing stops as someone on the other end picks up.

“My room. Now!” Altair says and hangs up.

Lil stifles a devastated sob. Desmond is shot. She was too late. The bullet tore through the bird, but Desmond was still in the way. She saw him crumble as she hurtled through the intense pain of the broken bird and back inside her own body.

The door opens and the light goes on.

“What’s happened?” Darkness rolls off Malik as he takes in the scene and comes over to the bed.

Lil is shaking. She can’t seem to catch her breath or stop crying.

“Someone shot Desmond!” she hiccoughs. “I couldn’t reach him in time, I tried to, but I was too late.”

The bed dips. A hand wraps against her neck, applying firm pressure against the base of her scull and the slowly the insentient panic lets go. Her muscles involuntarily melts and her whole body slumps.

Altair’s warmth seeps under her skin as she draws a shaky breath.

Above her, a quiet conversation ensues.

“They are not reporting back for several hours,” Malik’s voice rumbles. “We will not know for sure until they do.”

“There’s backup in the city,” Altair says. “Henry is there and if we are lucky, so is Ezio.”   

Lil barely follows their dialog, buried against Altair and the comforting warmth that fends of the nightmare. Then Malik’s voice rumbles quietly behind her back.

“We need to see, Altair. We need the intelligence to get them out and we need to know the damage, both to her and to Desmond.”

Altair hums quietly. Then he lets go and rolls Lil onto her back. The pressure on her neck stays as Malik comes into focus. He sits on the edge of the bed with one leg bent under the other, wearing the same sort of loose pants she has seen Altair in and an open robe with wide sleeves made out of black plain cotton.

“Did you have another vision, Child?” he says as he finds her gaze. Lil fights to answer him.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“We need to know what you saw,” he says. “We need to see for ourselves.”

Her eyes well over with tears. The thought of living through the experience again is sickening, but she knows he is right, and somehow, she hopes that she is wrong, that it was not a vision after all and that they can confirm her mistake. So when Altair takes control and compels her to show him, Lil does not resist.

Altair speeds through the initial wakening and orientation, but when her attention is drawn to the figure on the roof, the flow of images slows down. He studies the figure and the firearm with particular interest until the moment when realization hits and her attention turns towards the coffee shop. From there on it’s just like living through the ordeal again, except Altair blocks out the pain. It’s still horrific and numbing and Altair strokes a hand over her cheek.

As he lets the memory go, she feels anger burning through him before Malik seamlessly takes over.  

“An M110,” Altair says, “with _silver_ bullets.” The steel of his voice is unmistakable. “I’m waking the others,” he says and disappears out the door.

Lil frets. She knows what comes next. Tears still stream down her face in warm rivets. Malik lifts a hand and dries some of the wetness away. His eyes burn with pity.

‘I’m sorry, child,’ his mind says before he gently plods the memory. Lil reluctantly lets him steer her through the nightmare as Malik goes through everything in detail. He takes his time with her survey of the area, picks out another figure a further distance away that she never knew was there. Like Altair, he studies the man on the roof meticulously, then lets the scene play out to the end.

When it’s finally over, Malik floods her mind with reassurance and safety before slowly letting go. The pressure against her neck too gives way and Lil pushes herself up, wraps her arms around her knees.

“Do you think it really happened?” she asks fretfully.

Malik is quiet a second. Then his stoic eyes meet hers.

“I do, yes.”

Lil feels the claw in her chest constrict.  

“Will he…?” the lump in her throat grows. Lil can’t make herself say the word and Malik’s grave expression gives her no comfort.

“We won’t know until we find them,” he says grimly.

With a jolt, Lil recollects the horrific sensation of the bird’s death. Her heart races, her nerves strung like a bowstring. She can’t bear to think what Desmond is going through, feels sick at the thought.

She needs a hug. A warm embrace to fend off the shock. If only Altair was here. More than anything, she needs him to make her feel safe. She swallows hard and her gaze lands on Malik.  

Malik is no fool.

“Child,” Malik says softly and holds out his arm. Lil tries not to think too much as she moves over and curls into his embrace. Malik wraps her in his arms and pulls her even closer, leans his chin against her hair.

His heartbeat is steady and sure, his warmth against her side lulling and the tight embrace just the reassurance she needs.

“How often does this happen?” he says, his voice a deep rumble in his chest.

Lil knew the question was coming. She clenches her eyes shut and regrets not telling him before. How stupid of her to think nothing bad could happen, that she is fine to carry exploring the ability alone.

“Every night,” she says distraught, dreading his reaction. “I know I promised not to, Malik, but I’m not even trying. I swear I’m not.”

Malik takes her answer quietly and she isn’t sure he takes her words at full value. At least there is no reproach in his voice when he continues.  

“Tell me what you’ve seen,” he says and Lil recognizes the demand in the underlying resolve, though the words are softly spoken.

“Altair,” she says guiltily. “it’s always been Altair, up until tonight.” She doesn’t really want to confess to Malik, however there is no way around it now. “I’ve seen him in that fortress you called Masyaf, and travelling to some of the large cities.”

“And?” he says. Lil swallows her nerves. Right now it’s easier to tell him what he wants than to face his anger, and she hopes that by confessing, he will be less affronted by her deceit.

“He meets this girl,” she says reluctantly. “I think he fell in love with her.”

Malik goes very still. Lil senses the sharp interest honed in on her words.

“Where was this?” he inquires. “What city and what year?”

“Jerusalem,” Lil says. “I don’t know what year.”

“The girls name then?” Malik persists, and Lil can’t help the spark of curiosity at his interest.

“Her name is Adah,” Lil says quietly and Malik’s steady heart skips a beat. Lil blinks slowly.

Malik knows something. The opportunity to ask may never come again.  

“Malik,” she says softly. “Was she like me?” Malik straightens as he turns his full attention to her. Lil feels the weight of his gaze as he studies her a few seconds, before he tucks her back under his chin.

“She was a nymph,” he says quietly, “but she was nothing like you.” He doesn’t elaborate further. Lil’s courage falters and the words of confusion sticks to her tongue but Malik has said all he deems necessary and all he is willing to reveal. Moreover, there is uregent business to handle and as Altair returns, the house rises to action.


	24. Burned to embers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presented with the opportunity to repay a debt, one does. With Desmond's life on the line Lil decides to help him, never mind the consequenses.

# Burned to embers

 

“YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS!” Evie’s voice rings from the office and into the living room.

“You’re needed here,” Malik’s voice rumbles. “Henry, Ezio and Connor will find them. They will handle it, Evie.”

“It’s  _MY BROTHER_  out there!” Evie shouts, incredulous and hurt. Connor is preparing to leave, packing the car downstairs in the basement and Evie is furious. Malik and Altair won’t let her go. Lil is certain Evie’s voice would have carried through the walls if the door wasn’t open, even though the walls are more then ten inches thick if you count the books.

“Your brother is not the one who’s hurt,” Altair says. “You’re staying. Now get over it, we have more important things to do than standing here arguing.”

Evie howls in frustration. The door from the library is thrown shut with a force that shakes the floor, before Evie’s irate footsteps disappear down the hall.

Molly comes walking from the hall, casting a glance back over her shoulder before crossing a gaze with Farah.

“They’re not letting her leave?” she says quietly. Farah just shakes her head in answer and Molly sighs.

“Don’t understand why they keep her grounded like this. Even Desmond is allowed on missions, so why not her?”

Farah throws a gaze towards the office, but the vampires are busy and unaware.

“I don’t either,” Farah sighs, “but it’s not our place to question their priorities. Not right now at any rate.”

Lil can sympathize with Evie, but doesn’t have the capacity to deal with conflict right now. Her light is low. Pulling the wool throw tight around herself, Lil draws her feet up on the couch into the warmth and clutches the steaming cup of tea Farah gave her.

The vampires are busy mounting a search, gathering intel and putting whatever wheels into motion they can to rescue Desmond. Lil is left in Molly and Farah’s company. Farah is to keep an eye on her and call for help if needed. Lil is determined not let the need arise. For a little while, she needs to fend for herself, let Altair and Malik concentrate on the search. Altair has more important things to do than tend to her.

She tries to ignore the sunken energy inside, tries to make the most of the light that is left. She has to brace the hours until sunrise. It’s hard though, with the Desmond’s fate playing on her mind.

Farah’s gaze returns to her, her eyes aglow with a focus that resembles Malik’s.

“Malik asked that you drink that while it’s hot,” she says. Desolate, Lil looks into the cup. Another one of Malik’s infusions, sharp with ginger and sweet with honey bordering on cloying as Lil slowly takes a sip. Sensing her unease, Farah comes over to the couch, sits down at her side and lays a hand on Lil’s shoulder.

“All is not lost yet, Lil,” she says. “Jacob was with him and Henry and Ezio are trailing them as we speak. There is still a chance he’ll make it.”

Farah is doing what she can to console her, but to Lil it seems hopeless. Her heart clenches in her chest. Quietly, she shakes her head as Farah speaks.

“You did not see,” she says hoarsely. “The bullet _tore_ into him… the way he just _collapsed_ …” She feels queasy with the thought and her eyes well over with tears.

The grip on her shoulder tightens and Farah gives her a gentle shake.

“Malik once lost his arm, Lilaea, and it _grew back_. They are not human. They have come back hurt before and I couldn’t believe it, but they pull through.”

Lil gazes tremulously at Farah, her lip quivering while her heart grasps the tiny hope the woman offers. Farah’s brown eyes glows with warm determination.

“They have first aid kits and what they need to stabilize him in their vehicles and there are safe houses in the city. They are well equipped to deal with injuries. Jacob’s aim will be to get Desmond somewhere safe and stabilize him. The others will find them and then they’ll bring him home.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive. Come hell or high water the boys will bring Desmond home. So don’t give up hope just yet.”

\---

The hours drag on after Connor leaves, the vampires busy and the girls restlessly trying to find something to do within earshot of the office. Evie disappears and returns without a word, her jaw clenched and her face stony as she goes about completing the chores set her. Molly and Farah eats breakfast and brings Lin another infusion when she declines food. The tension in the house is unbearable. By daybreak, Lil is feeling sick with dread and the other girls are no better. It eventually gets the better of Farah as she blows out her frustration.

“I can’t stand staying still any more!” she exclaims.

Molly looks up from the magazine she’s been blindly flipping through, Lil turns away from the window and seeks Farah’s gaze.

“Anyone for the gym?” she says. “I need to do something but sit here. It might be all day before we hear anything.”

\---

Evie is already in the gym, high above the floor balancing on a ledge and eying the next hurdle a few feet away.

“Oh, I hate watching them on the course,” Molly says, cringing. “Gives me the creeps, I’m always sure Connor is going to fall.”

Evie leaps soundlessly over the gap in front of her, cat-like and nimble as she lands on a small platform, then treads quickly along a trail of pivoting boards. The low winter sun shines through the window, highlighting Evie from below. The image reminds Lil of a classic fresco painting, the way the light falls across Evie’s features and make her glow. Lil smiles faintly to herself before picking one of the thread-mills and setting out for a good long run.

An hour passes in silence as they work off stress and nerves in the gym. Lil has abandoned the thread mill for her stretching routine and is half-way through it when the gym door is thrown open and Altair enters with haste.

“Evie!” he calls sharply, “they are twenty minutes out.”

Evie makes her way to the floor with three heart stopping moves, throws herself over a gap, grasps a hanging ledge and lets herself drop to the floor as Altair comes over. Lil stares wide eyed at the move, but Altair seems unaffected and Farah too is unsurprised. Only Molly seeks her gaze and gives her a meaningful look as they gather around Altair.

“Ezio found them,” he says. “Desmond’s still alive and they’re bringing him here. Malik is talking to them as we speak.”

Molly and Farah breathes a relieved sigh and Lil releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Altair seeks her gaze, his eyes glowing warm with gratitude as he gathers her to him and kisses her hair with ardor.   

“Thanks to you, they got out,” he says quietly and the warmth that flows from him washes through her like a wave. “Now, we need you to go upstairs before they arrive.”

Behind him, Malik has entered the gym, talking to Evie in a hushed voice while Farah and Molly makes their way over.

“They’ve _emptied_ the stores?” Evie’s alarm catches everyone’s attention. Altair raises his head and crosses a gaze with Malik, then hurriedly makes his way over. Farah looks from Evie to Malik.

“Malik?” Farah says.

Malik crosses a solemn gaze with Altair.

“They cannot get the bullet out,” he says. “Desmond is still bleeding. They’ve gone through all the reserves in the safe-house and in the car… They are rushing him here, so we need to get ready.”

“He needs blood,” Evie says, “fresh blood, not from our stores, doesn’t he?” Malik gives her a pointed look and Evie presses her mouth shut.

“If he needs blood-,” Farah starts, but Malik sighs as he draws her to him, lifts a hand and cups her chin, gently stopping her.

“You know I can’t allow you, _eaziz,_ ” he says low and affectionate, “It’s been too short since I fed and you’ve not recovered yet.”

Beside them, Molly draws her breath, but before she can utter a word, Malik’s gaze stops her short.

“ _No,_ ” he says. “Absolutely not!”

“What?” Lis asks. “What is the matter?”

“Desmond needs fresh blood,” Evie explains. “In storage, the blood loses some of it’s qualities; an essence of life, similar to how tap-water differs from fresh spring-water to you.”

Lil looks bewildered at the others, then comes to a conclusion.

“He can have mine,” she says.

Malik’s eyes flickers over her features, before his gaze lifts to Altair at her back. The stoic expression leaves the decision to Altair. Altair grabs her arm and turns her to him.

“You don’t know what you’re offering, Child,” he says severely.

“If Desmond needs my blood to survive, then I will give it to him,” she says. “What difference does it make whether you draw my blood or he does?”

“You know what drawing your blood does to you, Lil,” Altair says. Lil’s cheeks heat up under Altair’s stern gaze. Behind her, Malik sends Molly and Farah away with Evie, then returns to Altair’s side.

“It’s OK,” Lil dismisses, but avoids meeting Malik’s gaze as she does. For a second Altair’s eyes glows with a ghost of amusement, then he shakes his head.

“Desmond is not himself,” Altair says. “When injured, his instincts will tell him to feed at any cost. The way we control him is by enforcing the hierarchy of our pack. It means that Desmond is the last to feed. To insure your safety, Ezio, Jacob, Malik and I will watch over you, and we all feed before Desmond does.”

 _Oh!_ Her eyes goes wide as she gets what Altair is saying. Blood rises to her cheeks at the implication. Before she can think of what to say though, Malik continues dismissively.

 “There’s no way around it Lil. We won’t need to draw much, but we need to draw your blood properly. Desmond will smell your blood on us and pretending won’t fool him. If it’s a concern to you, then we cannot accept.”

Lil gets the impression that they are trying to dissuade her. She looks away across the room, conflicted and bashful at their blunt words. In the end, it doesn’t matter. This may be the only way to save Desmond’s life.

“I’ll do it,” she says quietly before lifting her gaze to Altair.

Altair studies her severely, but the glow of hope in his eyes is not lost on Lil. Still he gives her no reassurance as he gently cups her cheek.

 “Once you enter that room and Desmond gets your scent,” he says slowly, “there’s no turning back. Denying him will do more damage to him than not helping him at all.  If you change your mind in that room, we’ll still have to go through with it.”

His palm is warm against her skin, the caress affectionate and soft in contrast to the calloused skin. He would never let allow anyone to harm her and Lil knows he’ll keep her safe.

“Desmond was there for me when I needed help,” she says. “Now he needs me.”

His eyes flash with approval, though he continues to regard her stoically.

“He’ll not be able to show restraint, Lilaea,” Altair says quietly.

Lil steels her mind, ignoring what consequences her decision has. Desmond needs her help, and that’s the only thing that matters.

“I want to help him,” she says. “I want to help Desmond.”

 “If I am to allow this, you’ll have to follow every instruction without question,” Altair says.

She meets his gaze, assured and determined, and gives him a sharp nod. Altair seems to accept. He lifts his gaze to Malik and nods his approval.

“Very well,” Malik says. “We need to get going. You get her ready. Evie and I will handle the rest.”

\---

The concrete floor feels cold beneath the bare soles of her feet as she follows after Altair. She’s fresh from the shower, her hair still dripping wet. She’s wearing only a robe, a long, lightweight cotton thing that resembles what Malik wore during the night, only it’s white.

It’s one Altair has worn while exercising and the smell of his sweat lingers sharply on the cloth. ‘ _To mark you mine_ ,’ Altair offhandedly explained. The notion makes her blush while the scent covers her and wraps her in a sense of safety. It’s a little big for her, though. Altair is nearly a foot taller than she is and the ting covers her from neck to calves where the hem tapers into points that trail the floor as she walks. She has to mind her step not to tread on it as they ascend the stairs.  

Altair is taking her into the garage-level where the others are apparently waiting. Trepidation is slowly setting in as they make their way there.

The sub-terrain level of the house seems changed. Strange, how she never perceived the fact that it’s a bunker more than anything. Large iron doors blocks the passageways into the house and down to the gym. The door Altair lets them through is five inches thick and the weight enough that Altair had to lean into the task of getting it open after punching a ten-digit code in its panel.  Lil shivers at the thought of what the safety measures suggest. 

The garage-level is made to contain something powerful and truly dangerous for the vampires to need these kinds of installations and instead of seeking safety behind those doors, Lil has volunteered to face that danger.

 _‘It’s Desmond,’_ she reminds herself. ‘ _It doesn’t matter if I’m scared. He needs my help.’_

Altair glances at her sideways, then halts and turns fully to her.

“You’re pale as a sheet,” he says. “Are you having second thoughts?”

Lil mutely shakes her head, turns her eyes away and curses herself for letting her anxiety show.  Altair sighs and lays a hand on her shoulder, turns her to him.

“Are you sure?” he says. The warmth of his fingers sinks through the thin fabric and into her skin, the touch stirring the material and lifting the scent of his body from the cloth.

“I’m sure,” she says. “I’m just a little scared, that’s all.”

There is a gleam of something warm in his eyes, but his face remains stoic as he accepts with a faint nod, then turns around to keep on walkingdraping his arm around her shoulder.

They turn a corner and at the other end of the corridor, Evie is waiting. She lifts her head and stands from leaning against the wall as they approach.

“How is he?” Altair asks as they come to a halt by a closed metal door Lil has never noticed before. It sits in the wall of the corridor, apparently usually hidden behind an identical door to the garage that now is bolted shut. Her brief wonder of the layout falls away as she notices Evie’s worried expression. The female vampire slowly shakes her head.

“I don’t know, Altair. He looked…” Evie stops herself as her eyes lands on Lil; a small pause before she turns back to Altair with a meaningful expression as she says ‘ _not good_ ’ putting emphasis on the words. “He’s lost an awful amount of blood,” she says quietly. “The bullet is lodged in his shoulder and they haven’t been able to stop the bleeding.” Lil expected her to continue, but Evie’s voice trails off into nothing as she stares at an invisible spot on the floor.

“How long since they arrived?” Altair says.

Evie gathers herself, considers her watch.

“Close on fifteen minutes,” she says.

Just then there is a quiet clink comes from the metal door. Evie moves swiftly, turning a lever that slides the solid metal bolts aside and the door starts to slowly turn. Once there is enough of an opening Malik steps through. There is a grim expression set on his face and splotches of blood down his front. He ignores the way his appearance makes Lil startle as he addresses the other two.

“It’s touch and go,” he says. “We got the bullet out and the worst of the bleeding has stopped, but his wounds aren’t closing.”

Lil sees the color draining from Evie’s face, her eyes wide as she watches Malik.

“Will he be all right?” she says.

Malik brakes gaze with Altair, closes his eyes briefly and meets Evie’s worried look.

“I don’t know,” he says. “We won’t know for certain until he has fed.”

His gaze sifts back to Altair.

“We should get her inside,” he says. “Desmond needs her blood.”

Without further delay, Malik turns and goes back through the door. Altair’s hand rests at the curve of her back as they follow into what Lil realizes is an air lock just before the door swings shut. The room goes pitch black and the door’s mechanism clatters as it slides shut, before another sort of darkness blooms as the two vampires turn.

Lil’s heart hammers in her chest, threatening to break through the confine of her ribs. There is a similar clink of metal as Malik operates the mechanism of the second door. There is no turning back now, too late to escape what awaits as the door opens.

Lil suffers an acute bolt of panic as Malik moves forward. There’s nothing to see but darkness, a black so solid that Lil almost loses balance and within it something stirs.

Something volatile that draws a ragged breath and snarls. The sound of it is nothing human and the hairs on her neck stand on end. Her breath is panicked puffs of air she cannot control and all instincts tells her to flee, but then Altair’s warm hand at her back nudges her on. Stiffly, Lil grasps Altair’s arm when he offers it and lets him guide her into the void.

The snarling sound grows in volume and desperation. Trembling with fear, she grips Altair’s arm for reassurance. He halts and turns her to face him. Lil expects his embrace, leans into his warmth, but Altair just firmly makes her sit down on the floor.

Lil can’t help the whimper that escapes her throat. Her skin prickles with alarm, the distance between her and the danger feels far too close, just feet away by the sound. She can’t help herself, starts shuffling towards where Altair is, but is instantly stopped as hands wrap around her upper arms and holds her in place.

There is a rustle of fabric as Altair kneels before her. She needs his comfort desperately. His hands cup her face as he leans fort, his lips pressing softly against her forehead before he quietly shushes her. Then one hand moves lightly over her cheek, skims her jaw and brushes the sensitive flesh of her neck.

Fright has lifted her nerves to the very surface of her skin and the familiar caress sinks under her skin and skitters up her spine. Her head rolls to the side of its own volition and instantly Altair’s fangs sinks into her vein.

He usually prepares her before a bite. Now Lil draws a startled breath at the sudden assault, and then another as her sleeves are brushed aside, baring the length of her arms.  She almost fights it, the resistance is already tightening in her muscles, but then Altair starts drawing her blood in a long, lazy swallow and the resistance just melts away.

Distracted, she senses the breath of three others ghosting the insides of her upper arm and her right wrist. Their teeth sinks through her skin as Altair slowly lets up. Strung up nerves transitions into sensitivity, makes her hyper-aware as three sets of fangs starts drawing her blood. The pull of different directions culminates in her core and a rapidly coiling pleasure. Lil starts hyper-ventilating, the mix of fear and rising want making a mess of her. Unable to think, she just hangs on and squeezes her eyes shut as the pressure mounts with another pull. A quiet whimper of desperation. Then suddenly, her insides burst with a bolt of melting heat as Altair tugs the stream. Her voice rings out in a keen as her body arches into the feel. The vampires all let’s out contented groans; they taste the excitement on her blood, and the realization bashfully takes her breath away, but when the pull of her blood comes in another wave, there is nothing she can do to contain her voice. 

Between them, Lil is melting. Altair’s hand sneaks to the back of her neck. She tilts her head back to allow him better access, doesn’t realize that the set of teeth on her right has withdrawn and just submits as Altair pushes her back and lays her out underneath him on the floor. He pins her arm to the ground while the other is kept extended in a tightening grip she does not notice. The pull of blood commences, turns a playful and frustrating tease that keeps her hovering on the very edge.

A low, rumbling snarl draws her back.

She’s forgotten the danger hidden in the dark, but now it lazes up her spine with clarity. A sound of struggle, and a clink of chains and shackles dropping to the floor sends adrenaline rushing through her veins.

The effort to distract redoubles, nearly has her falling, but nothing can divert the shock as Desmond’s cold fangs strikes her wrist like a viper.

He instantly starts drinking; a desperate and ferocious pull on her veins that makes Lil yelp. The small reprieve as Desmond swallows not enough to catch up before it happens again; pulling until her limbs are tight with resistance, until she think she’ll break.

Lil cries out in fear.

Fingers press into the skin of her arm, blocking the fervent pull on her wrist. Her mind is flooded with warmth. A split second, Altair is in her head; ‘ _Find the light’_ his will orders, and then he reminds her what it’s like, puts the memory of bursting gold into her mind before he lets go control. The golden ripple is there curling in her core, ready. The pull on her arm and neck teasing the flow in ripples when suddenly the pull on her wrist returns with a vengeance. Light surges forth, and Lil forgets her fear. Heat pulses through her core, she goes boneless and pliant as pleasure ripples through her, as golden light bursts up her spine. The fangs on her neck and arm retracts without her notice. Each fervent pull on her wrist draws another surge of light, another burst of sparks in her mind that whites out her senses. Her energy rises, swirls powerful and strong and fills her with life. Time and space dissolves, sound and sense disappear as she turns into a firestorm inside.

It’s too much. Too much pleasure and too much energy for her to hold.

There is no connection to muscles, no power to bodily resist, but Lil needs to make it stop. She fears the fire will consume her if it doesn’t.

Weakly, she starts to channel the light, forcing it in the direction of her bloodstream, letting it drain from her vein with what Desmond draws. The storm lifts a little, the pleasure still consuming, still exquisite, still making her keen as Desmond pulls another mouthful, but now her senses slowly return.

“I thought you were pulling my leg,” Jacob says, his voice dark and soft under his breath. “But she…” his voice trails off into nothing.

Warm mirth laces Ezio’s answer.

“Marvelous, isn’t it? One of nature’s divine gifts.”

“Ezio,” Malik’s voice says with disdain. “You know very well that nature has nothing to do with how she came to be, and that _gift_ is just as much a curse.”

An extra fervent pull of her blood sends pleasure coursing through her veins again, stealing her senses as her insides clenches and the light spills. The satisfied groan at her side indicating Desmond appreciates the rush through her veins and intends to keep it flowing.

“Bloody hell! The smell of her though… How do you resist her Altair?” Jacob’s voice is distant and sounds mildly taunting. Altair’s voice is level and unamused as he quietly answers.

“She’s a frightened child, Jacob. Resisting her is not a challenge, not when she does not want it.”

The words sting her heart and inside, the light falters. Altair still sees her as a child, she knows this; knows that she has kept him at a distance, but now she’s conflicted. His disinterested statement hurts her pride.

The notion drowns under another fervent pull of her blood, the light rushes forth as she’s swallowed in a surge of pleasure that has her voice ringing through the room. When it fades, she notices the light trickling away with her blood.

Lil startles.

Another set of pulls and she’s drenched again, her insides dancing while the pleasure pulses. She draws a ragged breath, trying to clear her mind when it fades, but before she’s able to do anything, she’s drawn under in another surge.

It feels like drowning.

The surge pulling her under in exquisite pleasure that leaves her boneless and weak, and every time she breaks the surface, her strength has drained away.

Giving Desmond a taste of her light was a mistake; she understands that now, that he is draining every drop from her and that the others do not see.

Another wave draws her under, but fear grips ahold of her, the pleasure reseeds.

“ _Help,”_ she whimpers weakly, and suddenly there are hands grasping her. Fingers press into her arm, blocking the flow of blood, gentle hands cup her cheek and turns her face.

In the blackness, Lil sees nothing, but that does not hinder the vampires. A startled pull of breath and Malik’s voice addressing her.

“What did you do, child?” Malik sounds a heartened mix of incredulous and alarmed. “Did you feed him your _lifeforce_?”

A sting of muttered curses, then Altair’s voice, harsh and unyielding.

“Desmond! Let. Go!”

The darkness reverberates with a low threatening snarl, before Desmond continues his effort. The pressure in her arm borders on painful as the blood presses towards the block. Light trickles past the hold and Lil whimpers.

Then everything happens very fast. Suddenly, pain sears through her arm as Desmond’s fangs rips through her flesh as he is forced away. Lil nearly faints. Desmond howls in anger as Malik gathers her from the floor and hastily takes her away. Her arm burns with a million needles of ice as the door slides shut behind them. Malik wastes no time before punching a code in a panel by the door, then they hear Evie operating the mechanism outside. As soon as the door opens, Malik urges.

“Evie, quick!” He steps through the door and lays her limp body down on the floor. Evie gasps in shock, then the door slides shut with a thump and a clink. Malik grabs Lil’s arm puts pressure on the wound. Lil cries out in agony at the initial shock, then whimpers quietly as the pain mulls to a steady throb.

“What happened?” Evie asks, grabbing a bag of first aid supplies stashed by her side.

“Not now, Evie,” Malik snaps. “Help me bind the wound; we need to stop the bleeding.”

They work efficiently, wrapping her arm in a tight dressing. The corridor is chilly, the cold glare of fluorescent lighting too bright for Lil’s eyes, but Malik insists she keeps them open.

She’s so tired, though. Wants nothing more than to sleep, the power inside reduced to mere embers. The room smells of blood, the smear of it covering both Malik’s clothes and her own. Blearily she watches the colored splotches marring the pristine white cloth, wondering how Altair will react now the scent of her blood marks his robe.

There is another clink as the door opens and a second later, Altair is kneeling by her side. Without asking, he lifts her unharmed wrist, pricks her vein and draws his tongue over her skin. Then he grumbles something under his breath before turning to Evie.

“Did you fill the pool?” he says.

“Yes,” Evie says hesitantly, her eyes shifting to Malik. “But, you said it was just a precaution. That it was a last resort-“ There is alarm in her voice, and Altair breaks her off.

“Malik,” he says, “we need to go.”

Then he pulls her into his arms and gets to his feet. Lil feels like a ragdoll. There’s no strength in her limbs, no bones left in her body. His warm familiar smell fills her nose as he carries her and Lil burrows into the crook of his neck, drawing a deep breath.

“Just a little further, then we’ll set you straight, little one.”

Malik strides ahead, opening the doors as they go. Lil loses track of where they’re heading, but understands they’re still under ground. They pass through a series of twists and turns and then Malik opens a door, and they are greeted with the sound of running water.

Something within her wakes. She feels the pull towards the sound like a new north. Weary, she lifts her head. The room they’ve entered is tiled from floor to the sloping arch of the ceiling in minute mosaic tiles. It’s a low lofted room, almost like a cave or a vault and the colors change throughout from dark greens through different hues of blues, culminating in pale watery blue of a winter sky. In between are single tiles in gold. It’s like looking up from under water where specks of light pierce into the depths of a pond. In the middle of the room, there is a pool of clear water.

Malik halts at the pool’s edge and accepts her weight as Altair transfers Lil into his arms. Then Altair gets into the water. Malik crouches on the edge of water and hands her back into Altair’s arms. Her feet sink into the water as Altair wades in further, then her calves, her thighs and her back as Altair lowers her into the pool.

Lil gasps. The water is bitterly cold, pierces her skin like needles, but the sense does not just stay on the surface. Instead, it continues to sink steadily deeper, draws into her flesh and crawls through her veins. Lil cringes in near pain and shudders as the sense only intensifies. Her wounded arm starts itching, an excessive supplement to her already exhausted mind. Lil closes her eyes as whimpering moan escapes her lips. Altair bends down, kisses the frown of discomfort and shushing her.

“Easy, little one. You’ll feel better soon,” he says softly.

Lil lobs her arms around his neck, takes comfort in the crock of his neck. His arms let go her feet and comes to embrace her, stroking soothingly over her back as he lets them both sink further into the water.

The prickling sense grows until her skin burns, until the energy of the water reaches her core and starts to refill her stores. She breathes easier then. Leans her head on his shoulder and finds his focused gaze resting on her. Nurturing on the care that surges over her with warmth, Lil feels his heart beating steady and warm under her palm.

She does not fear him, has not feared him for a while. She is not a frightened child and he should know.

His lips, hovering mere inches above, looks so inviting and she finds herself wondering what they feel like, pressed against her own. Slowly she straightens; angels her head just right and tastes his breath as she ascends. Before she can close the distance between them, Altair breaks away and presses his lips to her brow again instead.

“You’re not thinking straight,” he murmurs and his voice is infinitely soft and warm. She wants to contradict him, tell him that he’s wrong, but as she finds the energy to argue, Altair’s eyes flash over with that irresistible glow and she is lost.

‘ _Sleep, little one.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talking to myself here, but I think this turned out rather well. Not so good at brevity though,- need ot work on that still.


End file.
